


Try With Me

by fumogena



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Slow Burn, im in love with these two and their friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6212134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fumogena/pseuds/fumogena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judy doesn't like to think of herself as sheltered. Sure, she's still learning plenty in Zootopia, but she wears the Tryer name proudly as she takes her challenges head on. Nick follows along at a more casual pace and tries not to worry about failing at this 'friendship' thing.</p><p>They're both Tryers, he guesses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw the movie and was blown away with the good dialogue and writing. It was a really good film, and I loved the relationship between them so much, I had to write a little something.

He gets a photo from Fru Fru in the five minutes Judy is standing in line ordering their coffee. It’s an out of focus photo of a sleeping arctic shrew, a tiny fluff of black hair curling over the infant’s head. Nick smirks. This photo makes eighty-seven the new mother has sent them since the birth of her two-weeks-old daughter.

Judy plops down opposite of him. She slides his drink in front of him and has that faraway look she sometimes wanders into when she’s over thinking something.

Nick holds back on his suggestion for placing bets on how long it’s going to be before Fru Fru stops sending them group texts with progress on her newborn daughter. He just gives Judy a thanks and then takes a sip of his drink and makes a face. It’s not sweet enough, and usually when it’s Judy asking for their drinks, she makes sure to pester the barista behind the register to _please_ add extra syrup, really, he hates it without enough sugar. He’s guessing she forgot in her momentary haze of thought.

“Okay, Carrots. You usually snap out of it by now,” Nick says through the straw clamped between his front teeth. His terrible, sugarless drink is halfway gone while hers is full.

Judy startles and looks at him as if she just noticed she wasn’t alone. She stares at him for a moment, her smaller paw absently toying with the soaked label starting to peel from her drink’s plastic cup. Nick raises a brow just slightly in question.

“They recognized me at the counter,” she says finally.

Nick doesn’t say anything right away. He looks around the café and doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It’s a new place they don’t visit regularly, but Judy is still riding that wave of fame and it’s not unusual that people stop them to babble and ask for a quick photo. Despite her dedication to her work— or maybe, _because_ of it— Judy is always polite and accommodating for the citizens.

“I told you, signing some headshots and keeping them on you would make this whole ordeal less tedious. Sometimes chatterboxes just need a glossy sheet of paper with your adorable mug on it, sappy message scrawled in cute purple ink an’ all.” Nick sets aside the drink, moving his tongue over his teeth to get rid of the bitter coffee flavor. “Fame wears out quickly in a city as big as this, Carrots. Tough it out for a week more and you’ll be a nobody again in no time.”

Judy narrows her eyes at him after rolling her eyes. She’s used to the dry humor he dishes out. “It’s not that. Well, I mean, the fame isn’t a big deal. I love talking to people and making a connection, letting people see me as a person. I’d like to serve as an inspiration to others.”

Nick sits up a little straighter, his mind working to click pieces together. The thing about finally having a friend is that sometimes he has to do this emotional stuff. He doesn’t mind it because it’s for _Judy_ but sometimes he wishes he could be a better shoulder to lean on. His mouth doesn’t work right when Judy gets that lost look and she’s quiet. It’s always easier to joke.

“Then what’s the matter? Was the guy a jerk?” Nick casually leans out of their booth and sweeps the area for a shifty looking character that could trip Judy into forgetting to ask for extra sugar in his drink. Yeah, he’s bitter— like his _drink,_ damn it. “Point him out and we can finally do a little good cop, bad cop situation. You’ll be bad cop, obviously.”

She won’t ever humor his stupid suggestions because she is flawlessly good at her job but it still brings a quick smirk to his face to think of the tiny rabbit as some snarling bully with a badge. It’s too out of character for it to be serious.

“He was nice.” Judy averts her eyes from his and one of his ears quirks up in surprise.

 _Uh-oh_.

Nick smirks. “Was he… handsome?”

Judy sinks into her seat, her light weight not even making a squeak against the red vinyl of the booth. Nick is _nice_ so he doesn’t point out the adorable smatter of pink blush beneath her cheek fur.

“I don’t know,” Judy huffs impatiently.

Nick grins at her. “Hopps.” He leans closer to her over their table and lowers his voice as if they are two conspirators in a deep under cover mission. Judy looks mortified as she focuses intently on the condensation droplets of her untouched beverage. “Did this mysterious admirer ask you out on a _date_?”

Judy’s eyes widen into large, helpless, purple saucers and Nick’s grin nearly breaks his face in two.

“Oh. My. _God_.”

“Shut up!” Judy hisses to him when she scrambles up from her slouch. “Don’t—”

But Nick pops his head over their booth in a search for possible candidates on who could have the courage to ask his fierce and devoted partner on a date. Judy is struck still for a second on why on earth they are friends and then she dives over the table and yanks on his black tie, barely moving him down an inch.

“Get down, Wilde,” Judy warns. “Get down before I choke you with your tie.”

He holds back on making the sort of joke she hates and concedes with raised paws. “Alrighty, Carrots. You win.”

Nick sinks back into his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. They study each other in silence, Judy tense and waiting for him to pop back up to search for something that doesn’t even _matter_ , and Nick calm and collected, fueling the bunny’s irritation. In that moment, she is reminded of how he sparked envy in her with his confidence that day they met.

She crosses her arms to mimic him and looks to the side. “It’s not funny.”

Nick eases up on his smirk. He shrugs. “No, ‘course not, Judy.” And it isn’t funny, not really, not if it’s going to make Judy anxious and stressed.

“He said— he didn’t even— Look, it doesn’t—” Judy grabs at her face with a paw and sighs in frustration.

Nick gives her a friendly smile and the tension in her shoulders eases a bit. He doesn’t like to think of it as manipulation, because that makes his stomach roll with disgust, but he knows she appreciates his smiles because she always gets that little sparkle in her eyes and he can’t believe someone looks at him like that.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Nick admits.

“It came out of nowhere,” Judy blurts out while staring at the badge on his chest. She flickers her eyes back up to his. “I wasn’t expecting it. I was just trying to remember all of the syrups you like in your drink and then he turned around and we talked a little and then he asked… he asked me.”

Nick nods. “Hey, well, don’t be surprised.”

Judy frowns at him. “I don’t follow.”

Nick ducks his head in disbelief. “You’re joking. You have to be.” At Judy’s blank stare he sits back and chuckles, not unkindly. “Hopps, I guarantee you people have been giving you goo-goo eyes the second you walked into this town. When they stop you for an autograph, you really don’t notice the love struck glaze in their eyes at being in the presence of their hero?”

“I couldn’t have exposed and stopped Bellwether without you. Hero is such a powerful term, but if that’s what I am, then so are you.” Judy nods to herself and Nick nearly forgets how to speak with how confident she is.

“… Well, I can promise you they’re not blushing because of _me_ when they stop us.” That’s the nicest way he can say that the prejudice he’s always experienced in this gigantic metropolis is still brewing, although it hasn’t been bothering him so much with Judy happy and bouncing at his side.

“I never noticed.” Judy kicks one of her feet under the table in a nervous habit. “Heh. I still feel like a dumb bunny sometimes.”

Nick feels a tug of sympathy for the country bunny, who would have been surrounded by her gaggle of family members throughout her life before Zootopia. Exposure to dating and flirting, even the explanation of how that messy stuff worked, would be minimal at best. He’s been there in the break room as her worry-wart parents give her a call and inquire about her as if she’s still their baby girl. It’s cute, but a little overbearing. She says they used to be worse and Nick had chuckled.

He rolls his eyes dramatically and waves a paw in the air, hoping to end this conversation before it gets borderline depressing. They start work soon and she needs to be focused.

“It’s okay, Carrots. Not knowing when people are flirting with you isn’t the end of the world.” He rests one of his elbows on the table seriously and swipes his paw from the left to the right in a definitive manner. “Just know it’s going to happen, and you don’t owe anyone a ‘yes’ if you don’t want to.”

For a minute, Judy’s tiny face flutters with confusion and distrust, and Nick worries he’s never going to get this whole ‘friend’ thing down, but then she looks hopeful and determined and she smiles back at him and he knows she’s going to be alright.

“Thanks, Nick,” Judy says softly.

“No problem, Hopps,” Nick leans back and stretches. “Now, the drinks here are terrible and we don’t have enough time to go to another café. You owe me later.”

Judy rolls her eyes and then shifts out of the seat. “Nicholas P. Wilde, I could almost swear you are also on our payroll and would have money to buy your own drinks every now and then.”

Nick slides out of the booth and pats down his uniform. He looks over his shoulder as his digits poke around in his pants pockets. He looks worried and Judy starts to tense up again.

“Oh, gosh. I seem to have misplaced my wallet, ma’am.” Nick flashes her a hopeless smile, meek and totally, _totally_ fake.

“Har har, jerk,” Judy says as she bites her lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. “Okay, you big mooch. We’ll get some drinks that are 99% sugar after work.”

“If the remaining 1% is syrup, sounds like a solid plan.” Nick flicks his sunglasses open and props them onto his muzzle. “I call shotgun.”

They’re late to work for the first time since their partnership, and Nick hides a grin while Judy has to hastily explain how it’s _her_ fault they didn’t arrive two minutes earlier. He makes fun of her for it at lunch.

 

 


	2. What We're Good At

Nick is going to die.

It’s going down nearly how he saw it the moment Judy handed him that yellow sheet of paper asking him to essentially put his life on the line for her and the work she values so much. There’s an ache in his side, his breathing is loud and struggling, and he’s praying for the end to be quick and merciful.

Judy is there, too, but she’s unable to help him. The shock of his death hasn’t hit her because she isn’t crying just yet.

He feels like his last words need to be something meaningful. Maybe a quip of theirs, an inside joke like something to do with dumb bunnies and foxes.

Judy hovers over him, paws on her knees and large eyes roaming over his collapsed body.

“ _Nick_. What are you doing?”

Isn’t it obvious? He’s leaving this poor girl alone in this cruel world.

“I’m dying.”

“Nick.” Judy is the perfect balance of amused and unimpressed. She straightens and rests her paws on her hips. “We’ve been jogging for seven minutes.”

Nick groans and rolls to his side, winces when the pulled muscle from improper breathing techniques stabs at him again. The cool grass is nearly no relief to his burning face. Judy had the audacity to call this morning a great day when they had met at the park’s entrance. She had a gym bag with her and everything while Nick was contemplating ending their friendship because what kind of friend thinks _running_ in a park is an adequate friend thing? Is this normal? The burning in his lungs says Judy is a monster for subjecting him to this torture. Running should only be utilized when escaping certain death through slippery, rainy environments.

“These pants are crushing my pelvis, Carrots.”

“They’re spandex.” Judy looks down at him with pity. “They’re dry wick material, too. Great for exercising.”

“ _Judy._ It is some ungodly hour in the morning—”

“It’s eight.”

“— and I am choking in this getup you got me—”

Judy scoffs. “You would look like an idiot running in one of your dumb, oversized Hawaiian shirts.”

Nick pushes himself up from the grass and shoots her a hurt look, appalled. “Madam, I’ll have you know those shirts are top-of-the-line, bargain bin quality.”

“And they are very cute, Nick, but come on.”

He shifts into a sitting position and glares down at the tight pants she’s tricked him into wearing this Saturday morning that should have been spent sleeping or doing literally anything else.

“I just noticed something, Carrots.” He looks at her legs, and then to his. Black spandex pants with little neon purple lines running along their thighs down to their ankles. “We’re matching.” She’s wearing her black sports bra and a white, breezy material over it while he’s in a white tee he managed to find in the back of his closet.

Judy bounces in place, seemingly pleased he finally noticed. “I know. Isn’t it great? I wanted us to look cool for our first run together.”

‘ _First’_ as in, there are going to be more of these torture sessions and this one isn’t even close to being done. Nick is giving serious thought to the pros and cons of shooting his foot to get out of this.

Judy kneels in the grass next to him and pulls off her drawstring pack. She settles it in front of them and pulls out a water bottle then hands it to him. He takes it and drinks slowly, grateful for anything that will prolong getting back to that sidewalk path and running around like some well-adjusted individual who values health.

Judy sits cross-legged in front of him and props her elbows onto her knees, leans her patient face in her little paws.

“Huh.” Judy tilts her head a little. “You know, I assumed since we did such a good job running all over Rainforest District, a refreshing morning jog would be a piece of cake. Not to mention, you did pretty well in your academy classes.” She pauses and rocks back, gives a self-satisfied smile. “Not _top of their class_ good, but pretty good.”

“Don’t break your arm giving yourself a pat on the back, sweetheart,” he says in between sips.

She makes a face at the nickname he rarely uses anymore and sticks her tongue out at him. “All I’m saying is I was kind of worried for this morning.”

That catches him off guard and he gives a startled laugh, nearly spitting out his water. He lowers the water bottle and rests it over his knee. “Sounds interesting. Why?”

“I thought you were going to leave me in the dust,” Judy says honestly. She nearly looks relieved, and he’d be insulted if it weren’t so funny she assumed he would put more effort into this.

“Oh, man.” Nick shakes his head and tilts his head back. The sky is really nice today, and it’s a bummer because it isn’t doing anything for his mood. He is not a morning, or running, or putting-effort-into-stuff person. “There isn’t a competitive bone in my body, rabbit.”

It’s why he did anything before Judy. The Pawpsicle business? No one else was doing that in Zootopia. It wasn’t easy until he ironed out the rookie mistakes like getting the right permits, figuring out the shortcuts that tied in the different regions together for a perfectly timed schedule, and finally meeting a little accomplice that upped the odds of getting a free jumbo pop to start the process of the day. After a few years of sidestepping upstart cops that were watered-down versions of Judy Hopps, his career was foolproof and stress-free.

She’s already opening her mouth to argue that he _is_ competitive, her little finger is in the air to emphasize her point, and then the lack of evidence dawns on her. He shrugs his shoulders in peace and she lowers her tiny paw.

“I don’t like running,” he says flatly. “Not anymore.”

Judy scoots closer, eyes sparkling with interest whenever he hints at his past. It’s not even that interesting, which makes him almost feel guilty for deliberately sprinkling hints of it in their conversations. He tries to ignore the desperation motivating him to appeal to her.

“What happened?” she asks. He almost expects her to slowly reach for a notepad and pen in her pack while he bemoans his childhood.

He cuts her some slack. “Nothing we haven’t talked about already, Carrots. It was kind of a tie-in with the whole vicious, merciless predator thing. I was the quickest kid in gym class, so naturally someone started a rumor that it was just my savage instincts taking over. A lot of the other students were terrified I was going to go berserk and tackle them to the ground.” Nick leans back and sighs, rolls his eyes. “I thought if I stopped, they wouldn’t be so scared.” He gives her a light smile. “Didn’t work, in case you were wondering and oh my God, do _not_ cry.”

Judy swallows the lump in her throat and nods. “Okay. Okay, no crying.”

“Thanks,” he says.

“It’s just… so _sad_ ,” she says. Her tiny nose twitches with the desire to give a sniff.

“Mm-hm. Real tearjerker,” Nick says. “I’m thinking of making it into a best-selling novel.”

She laughs.

“Well, smack my name onto the dedication page. Also, we’d have to go buy you another shirt for your author portrait on the back of the book.” Judy puts her chin in her paw and gives an incredibly serious profile. “You know, the ones where they look like a cross between a def poet and a really sad ninja.”

“Oh, gross. That sounds like effort. Never mind.”

“Effort is _good_ ,” Judy insists. “And running is fun. So, let’s run?”

Nick gives a low groan. “I spilled my heart and soul to you and this is what I get in return?”

“Fine.” Judy snatches the water away and plops it into her backpack. She bounces to her feet. “I guess I can just continue being the best at everything in our partnership.”

“Hey, now,” Nick says as he struggles to his feet. The pants are form-fitting, and while they make Judy look great, he feels like one of those weird guys trying to quickly regain their youth. “God, I feel like a jackass in these pants. Anyway, who has night vision? Oh, that’s right, rabbit. It’s _me_. Keep them big ol’ eyes in the day where they belong.”

Judy snorts and pulls her arms back through her pack’s loops. “I’m looking forward to the night-shift we’ll _never_ get when that skill will be useful.”

“You’re awfully cocky for someone who showed up late to work last week. I’m thinking all the points you’ve racked up with that Bellwether case are maxing out with Chief Buffalo Butt.”

“That was one time! You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Judy tugs on his wrist and drags him out of the grass and back to the sidewalk.

“Before we know it, _I’ll_ be the responsible one in our little duo.” Nick allows his smaller partner to take the lead. His breathing is back to normal and he is looking forward to beating her for at least ten seconds with his speed. Then, he can stop for a break and play it off like he was too good for her.

Plus, recalling why he quit being so fast made him realize that it was a stupid reason to do so in the first place.

Being the fastest cop, along with being the most handsome and business-savvy? That doesn’t sound so bad.

“Ready for attempt number two, Slick Nick?” Judy squats down and gets into her incredibly practiced runner’s pose, her paws placed on the sidewalk and her legs tense for an incredible sprint.

Yeah… it’s going to be a while before he’s the _fastest_.

He strolls to stand beside her and shrugs. “Gee, are you even trying?”

“Ready…”

He sighs and gets down, tries to awkwardly copy her crouch.

“…Set…” Judy lowers herself a little more.

Nick doesn’t wait for the ‘ _Go!’_ and bolts off. He’s already ten feet ahead when he hears her sound of indignation at being betrayed. Her tiny feet bring her close to catching up and she shouts at his back.

“ _Cheater!”_ she accuses.

He can’t waste any energy on returning banter so he just focuses on running. It feels… less terrible this time. He takes into account the fact that it’d be very nice to see her proud of him for trying at the imaginary finish line.

And okay, maybe the pants help. They’re less uncomfortable when put to use.

They do a complete lap around the park before Judy gains her momentum and she’s at his side, grinning with unbridled joy. They split to overtake a group of galloping zebras and then meet up again.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says with breathing that is starting to teeter into gasps. He holds up his paws and forms a ‘t’ for timeout.

The two gradually slow to a jog and then Nick is bent over, paws on his knees and feeling a little lightheaded. Judy pats his back comfortingly and slips the water bottle free from her back.

“Good job, Wilde. That was,” she checks her pro-watch that Nick thinks is an absolute waste of money and announces the time, “ _eleven_ minutes of running!”

“It felt like three hours,” he admits as he graciously takes the water. He chugs the whole thing down while she beams at him.

“I’m proud of you!” _There_ it is. “Even if you did cheat.” There that is, too.

He deposits the empty water bottle into a recycling bin lined along the path. “Yeah, thanks. My shriveled lungs thank you, too.”

“We are going to boost your tolerance and stamina and you are going to be awesome.” Judy punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Hey, next Saturday, we can do something you want.”

Nick should have seen his fair and just bunny popping up with that suggestion from a mile away. He taps a digit to his chin. “Like what?”

“Anything!” she says. “Like cleaning your apartment, or finding a new one altogether because the one you currently have is terrible, or taking another jog—”

“Those are literally all terrible things you want to do.”

“Well. What do you do for fun?” Judy asks innocently.

Nick smiles.

“Anything, right?”

 

\--

 

The next Saturday, Judy lowers the cap deeper onto her head, squashing her ears under the brim of her shoddy disguise.

“I can’t believe you still do this,” Judy whispers frantically to Nick.

Beside her, wearing normal clothes like a sensible Hawaiian shirt and slacks, Nick shrugs. “Two hundred dollars, fluff.” He smiles and knocks on the back of the dingy orange van parked in a deserted alley. “It’s fun when it’s something I don’t have to do. Besides, we did something you’re good at. Now, it’s my turn.”

Judy hikes her shoulders into her neck and wonders if it would be too conspicuous to throw her hood on top of the hat she’s wearing.

“You know, the disguise is doing the opposite for you, Carrots.” Nick gestures to her baggy pants and black hoodie. “I said we were selling Pawpsicles, not robbing a bank.”

The back door to the van opens and the tiny fennec fox brandishes a bat into Judy’s face.

He gives an unimpressed glare at Nick and looks Judy over. “We robbin’ a bank?”

“ _No_ ,” Judy answers immediately, sliding the bat out of her face with her paw. She ignores Nick’s _I-told-you-so_ look.

“Cool, cool.” Finnick jerks a tiny thumb behind him. “’Cause if so, we can do it. I just need time to get all the stuff tog—”

Nick clears his throat loudly. “Oh, Finn, you little rascal, you little jokester, you.” He waves his paws around frantically as an obvious sign to stop speaking. Finnick rolls his large eyes but doesn’t say another word on the matter.

Judy doesn’t fit well into the scheme Nick and Finnick have perfected, so she drives for them. She also helps pour the cherry flavor into the paw prints in the cold. Nothing they do is technically _illegal_ so she eases up when they roll out the carts decorated with ice goodies onto the sidewalk.

Finnick has a blast talking to her over Nick’s early failures in the business.

“… and that bulldog chased him all the way from one end of the Tundra to the other!” Finnick says as he smacks his knee, doubles over in obnoxious laughter. Judy giggles behind her paw and Nick sighs. They made good time today with Judy’s help which means they arrived early before the lemmings would break for lunch.

“You know what, maybe you can take over from here,” Nick tells the smaller fox who sits next to Judy while Nick takes his regular post beside the ice pop stand. His enthusiasm for seeing Judy involved in this unsavory affair left the moment Finnick latched onto Judy like glue.

Finnick snorts but otherwise ignores Nick. “That dog ripped a hole in his pants.”

“All of this for two dollars,” Judy says with amusement lacing her tone. She looks over at Nick from her seat on the back of the van’s open doors. “I’m disappointed, Nicky.”

Finnick and Judy laugh again and Nick shakes his head.

“Okay, next Saturday is jogging again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was harder to write but fun nonetheless. Hope I didn't give anyone a heart attack at the beginning. ;)
> 
> Nick and Judy are spending more time together but it's not really romantic (or is it???). Not sure if it will GET romantic either but suggestions are always welcome in the comment section!


	3. Damage Control

Judy sits in one of the nicer couches in the break room, her knees up and her arms outstretched while she participates in an abrupt contest of making silly faces with her younger sisters and brothers on her phone’s MuzzleTime.

Nick shakes his head from the other side of the room, completely unenthusiastic with her sad attempts at making gross and funny faces. She looks _good_ no matter how far she sticks out her tongue or blows up her cheeks or crosses her eyes, which is the complete opposite result anyone would want in that childish competition. Nick would curb stomp those children with his faces. Remembering he’s not supposed to be competitive, he leaves his partner to her giggles of joy while the audio from her phone is evidence that the little eager bunnies are impatiently yanking the phone from each other in hopes of seeing their famous, beloved sister.

Nick gives a nod to Officers Delgato and Joe when they come in. They nod back and point to the coffee pot.

“This a fresh brew?” Officer Joe asks with suspicion directed at Nick. He puts cola in the machine  _one_ time and never hears the end of it...

“’Course it is, pal. I love you guys.” Nick raises his Styrofoam cup of coffee and taps a finger to it. “Just don’t ask for any sugar. I used it all.”

Delgato rolls his neck and pulls a new sugar canister from the high cupboard Nick wouldn’t be able to reach unless he hopped onto the counter. The other two officers make their coffee as they do every morning and place the sugar back on the highest shelf when they’re done.

“You’re going to bankrupt the ZPD with all of the sugar they have to order now, Wilde,” Delgato says with good humor as he stirs his coffee.

Joe takes a tentative sip of his hot drink and nods afterwards, considerably less amused than his regular partner. “They told us we can’t file any grievances with you anymore over this, but don’t get any bright ideas about stealing the last of it up here.”

“It’s Friday, fellas. I’m out of your fur for the weekend.” Nick grins up at them. “No promises for Monday, so be on your toes.”

“Oh, great. Another smug thing to wave in our faces.” Joe says with a very immature pout aimed at Nick. “I still can’t believe you and Hopps got the best schedule despite our seniority.”

“Let it go, Joe. They did good work to earn it,” Delgato says with a shake of his head. He turns to Nick and excuses his grouchy friend’s attitude. “You know how he is without his morning coffee, Wilde.”

Nick shrugs good-naturedly and smiles at Joe. “Joe without a cup a' joe is a scary sight. No hard feelings.”

Nick flutters his fingers at their backs when Delgato pats his partner on the shoulder and they leave the break room, ready to start their shift.

“Okay, you guys,” Judy’s voice travels over to Nick. She’s speaking a little louder to her phone to be heard over the roar of rambunctious rascals. “Hey now, cut that out. Don’t fight, come on. I have to start work and I don’t want to have to worry the whole time that you’re all going to tear each other to bits over mom and dad’s phone.”

The roars over the phone die down and squeaky voices pipe up with apologies. They sound so utterly ashamed and sincere, Nick wants to hold a paw to his heart and scold Judy for raising her voice at them. Judy glances up from her phone’s MuzzleTime and mouths ‘ _One sec!’_ to him.

Nick doesn’t rush her with her family time despite closing in on their shift’s start and finishes his coffee. Besides, it’s funny to see Bogo’s nostrils flaring if the fury is not solely directed onto Nick.

He’s crushing up his cup and stepping on the trash bin’s lever while Judy is blowing kisses to her phone’s screen and repeating her good-byes. When she hangs up, she gives a little sigh and a rise of her shoulders before they droop down and she’s staring at the legs of the table in front of her. She’s in Judy-land again.

Nick frowns to himself. She’s been doing that a lot lately.

Nick strolls over, paws tucked into his pants and raises an eyebrow. He nudges the side of the couch with his hip and Judy looks up at him.

“You miss them,” he says without a doubt.

Judy nods slowly. “You know, I start to think of all the things they used to do to get on my nerves when I was living in Bunnyburrow, and it’s funny now. They’re my kid sisters and brothers. Annoying me is in their job description.”

Growing up a single kid, he’s unable to make a personal comment on that. “Well, I can tell you _our_ job description probably includes getting our tails into our chairs before Bogo stampedes into our office like a deranged cow.”

Judy gives a weak smile at the image and pushes herself up from the couch. Nick’s uneasy that she doesn’t perk up with the cheer of starting a new day, but doesn’t badger her on it. Everyone has those days where they feel melancholy, and he can’t blame her. He can be there for her if she wants to talk, but that will have to wait for a lull in their shift.

Consequently, there is not a lull in their shift that day before lunch. It’s the Friday before spring break, which means there are plenty of speeding cars celebrating the beginning of a beautiful and alcohol-filled vacation from school and some work. Nick is sympathetic with the speeders while writing them their tickets.

“This sort of stuff never happened in Bunnyburrow,” Judy says with fascination as she finishes typing the newest license plate into her e-citation machine. Her paws are starting to ache with how many cars she’s looked up today.

“Something about spring just makes these irresponsible kids go crazy in the streets.” Nick hops down from his passenger side and flips his glasses onto his head. He smirks at her while they walk to the pulled over car ahead of them. “What’s the matter, Officer Hopps? You never had a wild and crazy streak?”

Judy looks insulted. “Of course not.”

He shrugs and looks her over. “You’re young. It’s not too late, y’know.”

Judy rolls her eyes and scans the car’s record. “This one’s clean. The biggest offense is a speeding ticket seven months ago. She paid it on time.”

“Perfect.” That usually means that the offending person is less likely to be a complete dick when they roll down the window.

“And you’re young, too,” Judy says stiffly to his back while she stops in place.

“Mmm. I’m in my thirties, kiddo.” Nick turns around and shoots at her with two imaginary pistols. “My long-winded party days are over. I get my thrill writing tickets to these speed demons now.”

Judy looks like she wants to argue something but Nick turns back around and raps two knuckles on the rolled up window. The car is super pink, with a golden frame for the license plate and Nick is betting there are some equally tacky fuzzy dice hanging in the rearview mirror.

The window rolls down and he gives a mental whoop of victory. Spot on.

He glides his gaze over to the speeder and gives a charming grin to the… _fox_ sitting in the driver seat. His smile falters.

Nick pulls back, surprised at seeing a member of his own species, especially in such a nice sports car. Foxes are very much still a rare sight, and even rarer to see rolling around with proof of money.

Judy sidles along Nick’s right side, completely unsurprised or disturbed and all with a working mouth, too. She politely asks for the driver’s license and registration and goes through the practiced, boring routine that they have been repeating all day.

While Judy runs the driver’s license number to validate its sincerity, Nick glances back at the fox. She tilts her head to get a better look at him.

“Hi. You’re Officer Wilde, right?” she asks. Her accent is higher-pitched than the citizens of Zootopia. One of Judy’s ears perks up at the sudden voice in the silence but she keeps her fingers on her e-citation machine.

Nick nods and points to her as if she’s an old buddy he’s trying to recall. He knows everyone, but he doesn’t know her. It’s a little unnerving to be met with such a new face. A peek at Judy’s loading screen reveals the name and the foreign plates.

“Hello, Rena. Nice car.” Nick leans forward and nods to the fuzzy dice. “Cute touch.”

Rena the fox looks at her pink fuzzy dice and snickers, gives a glimpse of teeth, all bleached white and neat. “Oh, they tell me they’re supposed to be lucky. People make such a fuss over lucky _feet_ , so I do what I can.” Her lips widen just an inch and Nick doesn’t miss the subtle flicker of her blue eyes landing on Judy’s bowed head before going back to his.

Was that supposed to be some outdated, inside joke between foxes over a lucky rabbit’s foot? Nick has to work to keep his civil smile from morphing into a protective snarl.

“Not much luck it did for your driving.”

Rena visibly flinches at the sudden change in his tone but doesn’t say another word. Whatever curiosity had been bubbling beneath his skin on this tourist fox is as good as dead. He waits impatiently for the ticket to finish printing and keeps his eyes focused on his partner.

Judy prints out the citation and hands it between Nick and the new fox. “Stay safe over the spring break, Ms. Rena.” Judy is as professional as ever. She doesn’t even narrow her eyes at the vixen.

“Will do, Officer. Thank you,” Rena says sweetly. Her paw reaches forward slowly and she winks at Nick while slipping the ticket free. The window rolls up, Judy steps back, and the car pulls away into the rest of Zootopia’s traffic.

“That…” Nick begins with uncertainty, still staring off into the direction the sports car had zoomed off into, “was really weird.”

He turns to ask Judy for further commentary but she’s already marching back to the car, head held high and ears alert and steady.

“More thrills to seek,” Judy calls back with an odd tilt to her voice. “Let’s get a move on.”

Nick refuses to call the rest of their drive awkward, because it’s _not_. It doesn’t matter that Judy keeps her gaze focused on the road the entire time, even at red lights when he tries to make some small talk with her. It doesn’t matter that he feels like his uniform is suddenly crawling with ants and it gets hard for him to sit still. It doesn’t matter that when they break for lunch, she pulls out her phone and begins texting— her family probably. It’s not awkward even when he doesn’t feel comfortable asking who it is she’d rather focus on with the one break they’re going to have that busy day.

Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde are best friends. They don’t _do_ awkward.

So, whatever this tense air that follows them around is, it’s not that. It’s just something else.

“Her joke wasn’t funny,” Nick blurts out after the waitress drops off their meal. Two sizzling veggie specials sit untouched in front of both officers, steam clouding the air between them like a barrier. He usually orders the fish but decided to copy her order for whatever reason, maybe to appeal to her as an apology. His brain is fritzing out on him.

Judy finishes adding an emoji or period to her text and looks up. “Huh?”

“The joke— back there, with the speeding fox. Sorry.”

Judy makes a face in concentration and relaxes a little bit as what he says comes back to her. “Oh. Yeah, no, I get it. She was from out of town. Hopefully her stay in Zootopia will broaden her mind.”

“I just feel like if someone made a bad joke about me, you would have been down their throat and threatening them over a cliff or something,” Nick rambles on.

Judy smiles after a moment. “Well, not in uniform. It would have to be after hours.”

The tiny curl of her lips is the greatest sight of the day and his heart swells up with hope that he hasn’t completely crushed their friendship by failing to stick up for her properly. He sighs in relief but the distant look still swirls over her and she goes back to texting.

Nick holds back on smacking his head into his plate in defeat. “Come on, bunny, what did I do?”

Judy huffs impatiently and continues texting. “Nothing, Nick.”

Those are the two most dreaded words she could have said. Anything worse would have to be an ‘ _I’m fine, Nicholas.’_ Judy locks her phone but leaves it up so she can be alerted right away by a flashing text. She unwraps her fork and knife from their cloth napkin and lays it gently in her lap.

“Hey, so there’s no easy way to say this…” Judy begins calmly as she keeps her eyes on her meal.

Nick loses his breath and freezes in his seat, claws digging into his legs painfully.

Here comes the rejection. What is it with him and celebrating prematurely before a victory is secured? First, it was in the speeding train before the rams bombarded them with horns and raining glass, and now it’s thinking he’s in the clear with Judy.

Okay, so he knows he’s not the greatest guy, and he knows that Judy can probably do a lot better for a partner— like someone who enjoys the speeches on public safety as much as she does, someone who doesn’t think it’s funny when she gets in trouble with the Chief, someone who doesn’t let her do all of the paperwork despite how she insists she loves doing it— but he is not prepared for _this_ right now. Any speech he had chopped together in pieces in the back of his head on how to handle Judy ending her partnership and their friendship swoops out of his ears and he’s staring at her like he’s about to lose the biggest treasure in his life.

Nick can remember the last time he begged. He was probably ten when they were carting his mother away in the hospital and he was sobbing hysterically and pleading for access to her side.

Judy ending things stirs up that same feeling of being abandoned and he reaches over the table and snatches her paws with his without another thought.

She startles in the middle of continuing her explanation and blinks at him. “Nick?”

“I…” He’s surprised his voice sounds so strained and dry. He swallows and tries again. “You need to know… that I…”

The phone buzzes along her side of the table and Nick is overwhelmed with the urge to snatch it up and chunk it through the window of the diner into traffic. Judy pulls her paws free and opens the phone. Her lips tilt into a smile again while he’s stunned on how cold his paws feel without hers in them.

“Aha! Plans are confirmed,” Judy says while she slides her phone back into her pocket. She leans over the table eagerly. “Wait, you were saying something.”

That is a very good point but he seems to have forgotten just _what_ it was that was on the tip of his tongue. She seems a lot bouncier now, happier even, and it’s knocking him from his train of thought. She pops a piece of squash into her mouth and chews, raising her eyebrows for him to continue.

Nick takes a moment to collect himself. He wants to face this with a shred of dignity, and not be spilled over the table clutching her paws.

“I was just going to say that I’m really glad we’re friends.” Nick is silently proud with how calm his voice is. “I know I don’t show it often, but you’re important to me.”

Judy loses her smile for a moment, touched. “Oh. Now I feel really bad for what I’m about to say.”

Nick’s mind is a howling cavern of curse words.  _Shitshitshitshitshit-_

Judy taps her thigh, right above her phone. “My parents have been hounding me for a trip to visit them that doesn’t involve me coming home dejected with shattered dreams. The beginning of spring break and this morning’s chat with my brothers and sisters was motivation for me to finally say yes. I miss them,” Judy confesses softly. She looks back up at Nick, guilt edging into her voice. “So, I know it’s short notice but I kinda promised them I’d visit them this weekend.”

Nick waits with baited breath. Judy continues staring at him, seemingly finished with her explanation.

Nick’s vision nearly goes dizzy with how quickly he exhales the air in his lungs.

“Oh my God, _Carrots_. Is that all?” Nick asks with glee. He slides back into his seat with relief.

Judy begins to frown a little and shrugs a shoulder. “Yes?”

“Okay. Okay, good, good,” Nick says with a stupid grin on his face. It looks like his entire world isn’t ending today in this diner, which is fine by him.

“You don’t have to seem so happy about it,” Judy jokes. She scoops more vegetables into her mouth. “It looks like I was worried for nothing. You’ll be fine for the weekend?”

Fueled by his joy, he nods enthusiastically. “Are you kidding? Don’t worry about me. I have plenty of stuff to do. The world is my oyster, Hopps.” He shovels the spiced veggies from his fork onto his tongue. Everything seems brighter and tastier.

“I’m glad,” Judy says slowly. After a brief pause where she seems to debate on continuing, she adds, “You’re not mad I didn’t let you know first? My plans are essentially ditching you for tomorrow’s hangout.”

His good mood stalls for a minute as he thinks about what he’s going to do tomorrow. He hasn’t been sleeping in with Judy ringing him nonstop until he answers and drags himself out of bed into workout clothes. They go jogging like professionals now, and he is super smug about being able to keep up with her. After their run, they grab some fruit smoothies, head back to their respective places, shower, meet up again in the afternoon, and see where the day takes them from there. Most evenings are some dinner, renting the worst movie they can find, going back to her place, lowering the volume while they make up voices and their own dialogue for what is happening on screen, then Nick saying good night and heading home on the last bus to his part of town.

It’s become sort of a ritual every Saturday. Judy seems incredibly worried that she’s breaking it first.

“Come on, Hopps. I’m your friend, not your dad. You don’t need to check in with me to make plans on your own,” Nick says and hurries to finish the rest of his food before their lunch is over.

“Silly me,” she says while stabbing hard at an undercooked piece of potato.

Crisis averted, he thinks happily.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe everything is A-OK now. Everyone give a round of applause for Nick Wilde!


	4. Picture Perfect

Nick looks down at her with his lips pulled to the side, considering her request with dubious interest. His paws stay tucked into his pockets, the loose tie at his chest swinging over his Junior ZPD badge sticker when he stops. The police station is just a block ahead.

Judy raises her paw higher for a high five. “Come on! We got the bad guy!”

Nick looks over her head at the ZPD. There are some news anchors just outside the doors giving introductions to the highly anticipated segments of how freshly graduated Officer Judy Hopps exposed Mayor Lionheart’s terrible corruption. Dawn Bellwether had ushered Nick and Judy out of the doors as soon as Judy handed her report to Bogo, insisting they get an energetic lunch before the press conference. It was the assistant mayor’s treat, so Nick didn’t have much to argue about.

“Your paw is shaking, Carrots,” Nick points out casually. Half-lidded eyes glance from her paw in the air to Judy’s face.

Judy gives an unsettled, big smile and swallows the butterflies deeper into her stomach. “I am about to shake out of my fur, dumb fox, so will you just give me a high-five and take a photo with me?”

Nick seems to consider this small bunny before him, who keeps alternating between looking like she’s lost in a dream to wanting to squirm out of his eyesight and heave up her lunch. They’ve only known each other for two days and some spare hours and so much has happened that even Nick is still trying to wrap his head around it all. The climax of the case is over, and Judy is begging for a quick, friendly nudge before being thrown to the demanding and curious reporters.

He taps his paw to hers and gives her his calm, collected grin. She brightens like the sun and pulls out her phone.

Judy twists until her hip is touching his and opens her camera app. She holds her phone high and gives a wide smile, stands on the tips of her feet to get Nick into the shot. Nick snorts at the effort and pats her head.

“Dumb bunny.”

He takes the phone from her paws without another word and extends it in front of them at a good angle. It seems appropriate that they both contribute to making the photo easier for each other, Judy standing on her toes eagerly while Nick leans down to meet her. Judy hooks an arm around his neck and crams her cheek against Nick’s face, giddily posing and savoring this last moment of peace before she has to answer questions in front of dozens of cameras. Nick’s eyes flutter wide for a moment, surprised at the contact but he doesn’t pull away and reclaims his cool demeanor quickly, giving a patient smirk into the lens.

Judy eagerly tugs the phone down and studies the photo with her heart racing. Behind her, Nick leans over and gives a low whistle as he takes in their first photo together.

“We look good,” is all he says, simple and sincere.

 

\--

 

Dharma the armadillo landlady lives in the first room on the first floor, less than three feet from the entrance into the Grand Pangolin Arms. She likes to duck her head out of her door and glare evilly over her red spectacles at anyone who dares to open the front door harder than a whisper. She also takes the opportunity to snap about rent.

Judy bounces in, a bag of fresh produce tucked into her arms. On cue, Dharma’s long snout is poking out of her door, ready to give distasteful commentary when she is met with Judy’s cheerful grin.

“Good evening, Dharma,” Judy greets. She shifts the bag a little lower and fishes out a sack of apples. “I went grocery shopping at the end of my shift and they had a special at the store and I thought of how you didn’t completely reject my last apple, so I thought, hey, why not give my wonderful landlady a little gift before I leave for the weekend?”

Judy extends the little sack of apples to the shorter female. Her landlady’s face always looks disappointed when it’s Judy that comes through. She’s the perfect tenant, with on-time payments and mindful of keeping the volume low when that annoying fox is over. In fact, the only thing besides Judy’s unbearable optimism in the morning (and afternoon and evening) that annoys the older armadillo is the fact that the fox seems to rattle the door on purpose when he leaves for the night.

Dharma doesn’t bother unhooking the golden chain that locks the door. Three inches is all she ever opens it unless she is introducing a rare, new tenant to the complex, or going around to knock on the doors for payments. She eyes the bag with contempt, as if expecting it to be poisoned.

“You’re leaving for the weekend?” Dharma asks slowly.

“Yup!” Judy takes an imperceptible lean forward and waves the apples slowly into the crack of the door. “So _ooo_ , I was wondering if I could get that monthly, complimentary delousing while I’m gone?”

Dharma narrows her thin eyes. She looks back to the apples. “You don’t have to bribe me for that, Jenny.”

“It’s not a bribe,” Judy says, her ears falling down an inch. She’s been living here for close to a year and Dharma still hasn’t bothered learning her name. She perks back up, stubborn on forming a friendship. “It’s a gift. You don’t have to take them if you don’t want—”

With the speed of someone half her age, Dharma unlocks the door and snatches the apples to her side. She leans out of her room and watches Judy carefully.

“I will take these apples, and I will get your delousing scheduled,” Dharma concedes and makes a shooing motion with her thin arms. “Go.” Dharma closes the door completely. She hears Judy start to walk up the stairs and then pulls the door open again as a last minute reminder, grumbling, “And tell that fox boy to stop trying to tear the door down when he leaves tonight!  _Es un menso._ ”

Judy’s mouth opens and closes several times as her whiskers twitch. She’s speechless for once, Dharma realizes and hides her smirk well enough.

Judy snaps her fingers and points to her. “Right. Will do, Dharma.”

“Good.” Dharma slams the door in finality and leaves the bunny alone on the third step of the stairs.

Judy closes the door to her own apartment with her foot and settles the bag of groceries onto the table. She pulls out the vegetables and fruits one by one and sighs as she looks over the packaging. The market down the street has specials ever week but the quality isn’t as good as what is available in Bunnyburrow. The carrots are especially lacking. She sniffs at them and sets them in the top row of her fridge. They smell appealing to a hungry rabbit after a long day of work but she misses the flavor of organic meals lovingly prepared by her mother.

Judy folds the brown paper bag and slides it into the bin she has marked as recycling and then realizes something.

“Why did I buy groceries?” she asks herself. She’s not going to be in her apartment for the next two days, and while all the produce she bought will last until she gets back, she’ll have to use it all quickly before they go bad.

But she knows  _why_  she bought groceries. It’s the same reason she buys them every Friday: sometimes she invites Nick over and she makes them both a meal. He always insists whatever she makes is good but she’s always let down that the flavor isn’t the same as her mother’s. Trying to replicate recipes from her childhood is a delicate attempt at making her apartment feel more like home. Judy slumps into her bed and takes a look around her small apartment.

For the first few weeks after the Night Howler scandal, she promised herself she would ask just  _who_  was in charge of getting ZPD’s first rabbit officer such… “charming” and tight living conditions. Was it Chief Bogo, who would have huffed at her record with an unimpressed demeanor and waved her off to some dingy apartment? Or was it ex-Mayor Lionheart, who only cared about posing for pictures alongside her and didn’t think twice on where she laid her head each night?

Judy supposes it could have been another task he rolled off his shoulders onto Bellwether’s plate. While the ewe seemed genuine in her comradery with Judy before she spoiled everything, the rabbit officer knew from firsthand experience how easily that could have been faked. Weeks turned to months, to nearly a year, and Judy never got around to asking why she was placed here. The optimist in her said she would wait it out and spot the best site in Precinct 1 to move into when her lease was up.

One month has never seemed so far away. Judy huffs and bangs her head against the wall with a soft ‘thump’.

 _“Keep it down over there,”_  Bucky demands at once through their shared wall.

“Sorry,” Judy mumbles. “It’s been a long day.”

 _“Why are you always such a jerk?”_  Pronk rebuttals at his husband. Judy stopped being surprised their marriage wasn’t heading straight for divorce a long time ago.  _“If you keep this up, we’ll never hear the end of Lip-Sync Movie Night.”_

“Those plans are cancelled, so don’t worry about it,” Judy says flatly, the back of her head propped up against the wall while her chin tucked into her chest. If she doesn’t move soon from her uncomfortable position, she is going to get some serious neck cramps.

 _“What?”_  Bucky sounds offended.  _“You can’t stop now! It was just getting to the good part.”_

“ _Yeah, that fox is funny!”_  Pronk agrees.  _“…but you, uh, don’t quit your day job.”_

“I’m so glad you two finally agree on something,” Judy says without much vigor. “I bought a bunch of groceries today and Nick’s not coming over. Want me to bring you two some food?”

The kudu and oryx quietly murmur to themselves, which basically means Judy can still hear them because they’re  _them_  and don’t care about the art of subtlety or sensitivity, and she has her rabbit ears picking up on everything whether she likes it or not.

_“Tell her yes, idiot. Free food is free food.”_

“ _Ugh. Fine. But if she tries to cry to us over breaking up with her boyfriend, I’m kicking her out.”_  Pronk gives a harsh knock on the wall and raises his voice. “ _Anything except carrots, bunny.”_

Bucky makes a low grunt and immediately bangs on the wall as well.  _“I like carrots! Make something with carrots.”_

_“You hate carrots!”_

The Shut-Up-No-You-Shut-Up match begins for the night and Judy wiggles free from the wall and slides from her bed until she’s sitting on the floor. Judy hears them start to ram into each other’s antlers and raises her paws into the air expectantly. The three frames hanging on her side of the wall begin to clatter with the vibrations and she catches every single one without looking up, having months of practice diving to the rescue. She stretches her legs out into a ‘V’ and sets the picture frames between them, all facing up so she can inspect them.

One frame is a soft blue that reminds her of the clean and clear skies of the farm. A widespread shot of her family is safely tucked inside, so many rabbits crammed into one photo that the photographer had to step back a good way to get most of them visible. Tiny bunnies were cradled in arms of their parents, while Judy’s sibling and cousins and aunts and uncles all stood by, cheerfully grinning at the camera. Some kids were mid-run, with adults just beginning to bend over and chastise them for ruining a photo.

She’s the one leading the charge, nine-years-old and dressed in her very first police uniform, paw held high with a leek in the air and her smaller disciples curiously following suit. Her mother had agonized for weeks to get Judy to finally wear overalls again like a sensible bunny. She also remembers her aunts pulling aside her mother and nervously asking that Judy not share her enthusiastic goals with their children.

It’s a good family photo despite those other memories attached to it, Judy thinks. It captures the essence of what it means to have a large family who grew up together and helped run their farms. There were always some hiccups, but there was still love. All at once, Judy feels the urge to update her ticket to one departing for tonight. She really misses that feeling of being home. She quickly sits the frame onto the bed behind her before she can get too emotional.

The second picture is of her parents in a pink frame taken nearly a year ago. It’s one they sent her while she was still in training at the Academy and she giggled every time she saw her dad’s face. While her parents were posing in front of the camera, he looked like he was in the middle of giving a great sneeze. Her mother’s face was frozen in the first second of terror realizing she was in the range of the sneeze attack. On the back of it was written, ‘ _Your mother would kill me if she knew this is the picture I put into the envelope to send to you, so don’t tell! Remember to laugh! And also for the love of God do not **die!!!**  We love you, Jude the Dude!’_

Seriously, she is going to cry.

She knows what the last green frame holds. It’s the newest photo of the bunch, and the one she finds herself staring at the longest before each morning’s police shift. While she straightens her badge in her mirror, her eyes always drift to the back wall and go over each photo, saving this one for last.

Nick had groaned in disbelief the first time he saw it hanging above her bed. He had also asked who even prints photos anymore.

Judy places the last two frames on her bed and decides she needs to pack for the short trip spent in Bunnyburrow. She opens her tiny closet and pushes the clean copies of her uniform to the side and looks at her casual wear. Besides her workout clothes, the pickings are slim. Without much choice for farm clothes, she pulls out her pink and blue plaid shirts and both pairs of her only jeans. The bright color has faded just a few shades but they’re all still sturdy, good material. She pulls out her white suitcase decorated with its carrot pattern and places it beside the frames on her bed.

Gathering the rest of her things, like her toothbrush in a sandwich bag, the spare set of phone charger and earplugs, and a few other necessities, takes all of ten minutes and then she’s staring at the toaster oven beside her microwave, wondering if it’s worth making a meal for her picky next door neighbors. The fighting has died down, which means they’re probably asleep with exhaustion. It’s just as well— one part of the relationship would have recoiled in disgust at what she made whether it had carrots or not while the other one would have been selfishly pleased and started a fight all over again.

She gathers up her picture frames instead. Judy takes a careful step onto her bed and hangs the frames into their spots with great care. Sleep is drooping her eyes but she can’t shake off that nagging feeling that she needs to text someone good night, even though she doesn’t want to speak to him. Not really.

Judy plugs in her phone to charge and notices one text about an hour old popping up. Her heart leaps into her throat and who is she kidding, she really wants to text him.

She quickly unlocks the phone and is met with the group chat picture of Fru Fru and her husband holding their daughter. Fru Fru looks gorgeous, the glow of her husband and daughter lighting up her face.

Judy stares at the photo for a very long time.

Nick, the only other person included in the group chat, hasn’t responded to the message. Neither of them really do, as Fru Fru sends them out so frequently, Judy and Nick would have to be texting back ‘aww’s and ‘so cute lol’s all day if they had to compliment each one.

Judy swipes to bring up the keypad.

‘ _You look happy with your family, Fru Fru.’_

Afterwards, she flops onto her back and sleep comes easily.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow chapter, but I felt it was important to add it in. Homesickness sucks.
> 
> The Junior Zootopia Novel gives Judy's landlady the name Dharma, but leaves out Pronk's and Bucky's names and calls them by their species, Oryx and Kudu. Weird. Yeah, I've done an embarrassing amount of research with this fun little fanfic.


	5. A Gigantic Molehill

Nick’s hold on her paw is gentle but firm, pulling her behind him with the intention of keeping up through the gaps in the crowd. Their smaller sizes work to their advantage on this busy day as they slip through the cracks of people and make their way forward. He moves with the agility of his species, in and out of long giraffe legs until she’s starting to burn up with how fast he’s moving. She looks up to ask for a break but he’s looking forward and he suddenly seems so tall, as if his confidence has given him a foot more of height between them. It’s disorienting, and she grabs with her free paw at her forehead.

His calm, green eyes glance back at her. “Don’t get nervous. That’s the number one rookie mistake.”

She gulps, suddenly anxious about failing him. She nods vigorously, the trunk of her costume flapping with her movement.

“Good girl,” he praises quietly. He tilts his head to the large red door. “Your part is easy. Look cute, don’t say a word. I’ll do the heavy stuff,” he recaps with a point to her. “Got it?”

Judy nods again and follows him inside. Nick seems very confident with whatever it is they’re about to do, so she follows his lead closely. Judy tries very, very hard not to panic when she can’t recall the plan. Nick seems so proud of her and impatient to move through the day; she doesn’t want to yank on his shirt and ask. Besides, he said no talking.

She’s so caught up in not ruining the plan that she doesn’t notice him stopping and she trips over his tail. She falls onto the floor with her arms spread out, ready for it to hurt when her stomach slaps against the tile. It doesn’t, surprisingly. The fall seems very short. She still feels hot.

She hears some gasps from around the room as they notice her clumsy fall. She wants to jump back up and assure everyone she’s fine, but Nick is chuckling above her, shaking his head.

“No, no, she’s alright. She’s still growing into her ears,” Judy hears Nick say sweetly to a concerned elephant watching Judy. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”

Nick scoops her up from the floor by her arms and sets her onto her feet. Did he get stronger? He lifted her up like she weighed nothing!

Judy wobbles a little on her feet and he reaches out to steady her, crouching down before giving her a parental smile.

“Hey, don’t cry, scout!” He pats her gently on the head, brushes one of her elephant ears out of her face. “You know what’ll cheer ya up, kiddo?”

Suddenly, the plan comes back to her. She lights up and turns to point at what she wants more than anything in the world. Nick smiles and stands, keeps his paw on her head when she tries to waddle forward to her prize. Nick beckons the shop’s cashier, who coos at Judy’s elephant costume. She tries not to fidget with how much heat is collecting behind her neck and at her ears.

“One jumbo pop for the kid, please.”

The heat comes all at once to her and she realizes she’s choking on her blanket. Judy sits up in her bed and snatches it from her neck, unrolls it from her head, and throws it so that it lands at the end of her mattress. Her heart races while the breezy waft of air conditioning cools down her fur.

She brings up her knees and rests her forehead on them, breathing loudly. “For crying out loud…” A weary glance at the alarm clock confirms that she’s up at 2 in the morning. She doesn’t get up this early even for work.

“This is ridiculous,” she mumbles to herself. She flops back onto her pillows and checks her phone out of habit, sleep scared away from her racing mind for now. She opens up her messages even though she doesn’t have a new notification and scrolls through her texts with Nick. She needs some reassurance from that nightmare right now.

They text frequently. He mostly sends her jokes that make her groan with how lame they are.

His worst one by far: _Wat do u call 3 humped camel???_

She always texts back, _I was there when you told it the first time!_ _Enough!! You send me that so many times!!_

And she can just see him cackling across their work cubicles when he sends back, _My bad lmao_

He also sends her snarky comments about lines taking too long or sends her stupid selfies. She saves every one and sends them back when she doodles on them with an app. See, she can be _funny_ , too. Maybe Pronk was right; she isn’t at comedian status but she has a different humor than Nick. She would even say more mature.

She’s definitely not a kid. No way for him to think of her like that.

She closes her phone and rubs at her eyes. This time, sleep is a lot less easy.

 

\--

 

Judy’s head lifts out of her pillow and her sleep-rimmed eyes fly straight to the alarm clock. For the first time in twenty years— she will forever be tarnished for waking up late on the eve of the Carrot Festival when she was four—, Judy Hopps has overslept.

“Sweet cheese and crackers!” she hisses as she rolls out of bed and stumbles to her feet, running her paws through the short fur on top of her head. “Why today of all days?!”

The whispers of a very odd dream fly from her consciousness, tucked into a deep corner of her mind. Judy squirms around gracelessly as her sleepy and soft ears get tangled in the sleeves of her shirt when she pulls it over her head. After the brief battle is over, she snaps open both doors to her closet and shimmies into a pair of white shorts and a gray boat-neck shirt. She stretches it a little clumsily over her head and lets it slip off of one shoulder while she sprints around the room, yanking out a banana from her fruit bowl for breakfast, her suitcase from the floor of her bed, her fully charged phone, and finally her train ticket.

Her fingers jumble with the key for a second as she tries to cram it into her lock. Since coming to Zootopia, she’s eagerly taken every customer awards card that each shop she visits offers and clipped them onto the wrist coil. She pulls them all to the side to get the key free and finally locks her door and shouts a good-bye to the Oryx-Antlerson door.

As she bounces down the steps to the first floor, she kicks her mind into overdrive and tries to work through the map of Zootopia like a clever fox finding a shortcut to the train station.

Dharma is watering the plants at the edge of the door leading out of the apartment complex and shies away from the racing rabbit.

“No running!” she scolds with a shake of her watering can.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m super late—” Judy waves the paw holding her banana behind her. “Bye, Dharma!”

Judy pushes open the last door before fresh air and nearly topples over the stairs leading to the sidewalk. At the curb (in a no-standing zone, are you _serious_ ) is Finnick’s beat up van. Said fox is lounging in the driver seat, blasting heavy rap and bobbing his head enthusiastically to the tune. Leaning against the passenger door, paws stuffed into his pants and eyes shaded by his favorite pair of sunglasses, is Nick, who taps the back of the door when he sees Judy. Finnick begrudgingly lowers the volume to a dull roar and Nick opens his arms to Judy.

“Morning, sunshine. Overslept, did we?”

Judy stares in disbelief at her best friend. Nick takes the steps two at a time and pries the suitcase from her paw. He lifts a finger to her chin and closes her gaping mouth for her, then pulls her by the wrist down the steps. She follows as if in a trance, then snaps out of it, glancing from Finnick to Nick’s profile.

“How did—” she begins.

“Late night texting Fru Fru, silly rabbit, is not good practice for waking up on time.”

Judy wonders if she should apologize for not texting him last night— Friday’s whole shift was so weird and she can’t believe he’s even talking to her now after how cold she was to him yesterday— but Nick opens the passenger door, drops her suitcase in, and motions for her to hop into the seat first.

“Come on, bunny. Your wonderful _family_ is a-waitin’.” It’s not obvious sarcasm, but it’s… different. Something is off, delivered with an easy smile and the memory floods her again: “ _It’s rare I find someone so non-patronizing.”_ So maybe there are some hard feelings after all.

Judy shoos the thought away and gets in, scoots close to Finnick and smiles at the smaller fox, who nods in response. Not a fox of many words, Finnick is. Nick hops in after her and slams the door closed. He drums on the dashboard with his paws.

“Let’s get our lovely gal to the train station, Finn,” Nick declares. He whips his sunglasses off and shoots Finnick a serious look over the top of Judy's head. “I’m giving you permission to ignore all traffic laws.”

“This is no time for your delirious morning chatter, Nick,” Judy interrupts with a paw waving between them and focusing on the sensible fox actually driving. “Just drive safely and we should get there on time. Thank you, by the way.”

Finnick shoots her a thumbs up and flips his sunglasses down from his forehead. “Nick’s idea. Buckle up.”

“Absolutely,” Judy says while reaching for the seatbelt. Nick hands it to her and she clips it closed. She tries to ignore the fact that Finnick’s van has only two seats, and Nick and Judy are sharing one this time with a seatbelt strapping them in close.

Finnick pulls out of the apartment’s front curb and merges aggressively into traffic. Of course.

He honks at a car who cuts him off, blasting on the horn for nearly fifteen seconds as he drives into the middle lane, then swerves in front of the original car. All the time, Finnick bangs his head to the music he enjoys so much.

Judy thumps the back of her head on the worn leather seat. Nick shrugs.

“Hey, at least he’s using his signals. He never does that when he’s driving with me,” Nick says just loud enough to be heard over the music and wind rushing through the open windows.

“Why did you pick me up today?” Judy asks as she stares straight ahead.

“Lucky guess,” he answers smoothly. “Can’t a friend do another friend a favor to be nice?”

Judy peels her banana open, suddenly remembering she hasn’t eaten anything in a while. She needs a distraction anyway. “I think I’m mad at you.”

“Finally. I was wondering what it was going to take to get you to talk.” Nick reclines comfortably into their chair and motions. “Go on, Miss Hopps. I’m all ears.”

“No.”

Nick’s ears perk up. “ _’No’_?”

“Yeaa _aaah_ , no.” Judy takes a bite of her banana, chewing quickly as she starts recognizing the signs and shops that are nearing the central train station. She swallows before she continues, “I’m still debating on if I’m being silly or not.”

“… That makes no sense. You realize that pretty much answered your own question, right?” Nick crosses his arms over his chest. “Just tell me what I _maybe_ did wrong so I can apologize and we can move on.”

Finnick tightens his jaw. He eyes the volume knob on his radio before flicking his attention back to traffic. He shifts his foot a touch heavier on the gas pedal, clearly not having been aware that the two beside him were in some sort of bizarre, vague fight that was going to make listening to his favorite song difficult.

Judy finishes her banana. Nick tries not to laugh at how furious she looks while her cheeks are stuffed with soft breakfast. The impatient tick of stomping her foot doesn’t come off so well when she can’t reach the floor, so she just ends up fidgeting in her seat while she swallows the last of her snack.

“It’s not that simple! You can’t just… expect everything to come easily to you.” Judy waves her paws around in frustration. “And it’s important to me, so I have to think about it. Oh, and that dream last night just made it a thousand times worse.” She rubs her paws on her face. “No wonder I overslept.”

“You’re mad at me for something I did in a dream?” Nick asks, clearly confused by everything.

“ _Noooo_ ,” she groans. “You don’t get it.”

“You are one-hundred-percent correct, Carrots.” Nick leans his elbow into the open window frame. He shifts his sunglasses back onto his eyes. “Listen, I don’t like fighting with you, so when you’re ready to be an adult, give me a heads up.”

She gives him an infuriated glower but he’s already turned around.

“Sorry for being such a dumb _kid_.”

Nick throws both paws into the air with defeat and doesn’t say another word, clearly frustrated but unwilling to do further verbal damage in this conversation. Judy turns away from him in their seat and watches the time on the radio, glad that the music is some sort of cover for what would be an undeniably tense and silent ride.

The ride.

Nick’s giving her a ride.

Nick had seen her late night text in their group messages, and maybe he was a little sore she hadn’t bothered talking to him after work like they usually did, but he had woken up early, rounded up Finnick and his somewhat reliable van, and gotten to Judy’s apartment to wait for her because he guessed she might need a little help. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are best friends, everyone says. Even though she’s a rabbit and he’s a fox, and not to mention the huge mess of things she made when they first met, and he forgave her without condition one week later when she came begging. Nick is all in for this friendship, because just a few hours after making up, he’s staring into her eyes and bandaging her leg and hissing in a strangled voice that he is not leaving her behind. Even though he’s never had a friend after Finnick, Nick’s the shining example of what she should try to be.

Judy suddenly feels just like she said: silly. And immature, and she can’t blame him if he calls her ‘kiddo’ sometimes because maybe she really is childish.

She turns around in her seat and looks at Nick, who has mimicked her pose in the opposite direction, gazing behind sunglasses at the passing cars.

She opens her mouth to say something over the music, but Finnick lurches the van to a halt and they all jolt forward. Nick and Finnick barely act like they feel it, years of experience with terrible stops and starts in this van drilled into their senses, while Judy nearly chokes on the seatbelt before settling back.

Finnick stops right in front of the train station, a line of cars beeping from behind as they wait for him to move forward. He laughs whole-heartedly and waves at them in his side mirror, his deep voice adding further vibrations to the music thrumming in the van.

“Right on time, baby,” he relishes with a smug grin at the clock. He presses the power button on his radio and Judy’s ears ring with the sudden silence.

“Thank you, Finnick,” Judy says a little loudly. She unbuckles the seatbelt and reaches down to take her suitcase.

Nick’s paw is around the handle before she can touch it. She looks up to question what he’s thinking, but he opens the door and jumps out. He calmly rounds the van and begins walking to the station’s entrance without a single look back.

“What… what is he doing?” Judy asks, watching from the seat as the enigmatic fox leaves his two friends behind.

Finnick shrugs without care, much more used to Nick’s odd intricacies. Judy thanks him a third time and quickly shimmies out of the seat, darting through the crosswalk to catch up to Nick.

“Nick!” Judy calls to him. He’s still casually strolling but the crowds are starting to thicken in the train station, and for a ludicrous moment she fears he’s going to hop onto her train and visit Bunnyburrow in her place.

She steps around someone’s luggage and a pair of wandering lion cubs and their mother hurrying after them, then she catches up to Nick. He’s stopped in front of the right platform and her suitcase sits beside him.

“Nick,” she repeats as she comes to carefully stand beside the fox. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he says lightly. He gives a simple shrug, the sunglasses not helping with the way she’s trying to read his emotions. “Have fun with your family, Judy.”

The large clock on the wall says she has about four minutes before her train leaves. Nick looks around the train station with exaggerated interest, as if it was his plan the whole time to just lounge around without a worry.

“You are so weird,” she says with a huff. She places her paws on her hips and scrubs her toe anxiously at the waxed floor.

Nick bounces his shoulders again, unable to argue. She takes a deep breath.

“The debate is over, and the verdict is Juddy Hopps is one overthinking bunny.” Her fingers fidget with the end of her shirt until she realizes what she’s doing, and then she crosses her paws together. She looks into his sunglasses with a firm line as her mouth. “You're very weird, but you're still a good friend. Nick, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry.”

Nick gives her his attention, clearly baffled and failing to cover his surprise. He finally takes off the sunglasses and clips them onto his collar. “I don’t get you, Hopps. One minute it’s the silent treatment, the next you’re acting like I’m a super fox. You’re weird, too.”

“What a pair,” she says with a sheepish smile.

Still caught off guard, Nick’s brow furrows but he gives a half-smile in return. “Oh, isn’t that the truth.” He looks behind them at the clock and she’s honestly unsurprised he remembers what time she was meant to leave today. “Go on, Carrots. We can continue being weird together when you come back.”

Judy bows her head to hide her grin and she blows a dramatic raspberry. “My apologies always seem to come while we’re in a rush.”

“Fox,” he says, while jabbing a thumb into his chest, and then he points to her, “Bunny. We’re fast animals, kiddo.”

The word hits hard against her but it doesn’t sink her stomach or make her fur stand on end. It just envelopes her with the notion that Nick bothers giving her so many nicknames in the first place, and this one feels a lot like forgiveness.

Judy smacks him in the shoulder and picks up her suitcase. “Don’t get arrested while I’m gone, Wilde.”

“Wouldn’t that be a story, though?” Nick suggests with a waggle of his eyebrows.

The awkwardness leaves them as they exhale together. Back to normal.

The train’s whistle sounds throughout the space as a last minute call for the ticket holders. All sorts of animals around them squeeze in last minute hugs with departing friends and family before shuffling forward to enter the capsule. Some neighboring couples even cry for a last moment, and some kiss with enthusiasm. Judy pointedly looks at her suitcase before her mind can conjure up something to rival the dream’s level of unspeakable weirdness.

“Every newspaper would cover it. I’d need a new partner,” Judy laments sadly while taking slow steps backwards to the open doors.

Nick shudders and pulls a suddenly solemn face. “Forget I said anything.”

“Done,” she promises. She steps onto the train and feels the best liberation that she’s leaving on a good note with him.

Nick raises a paw to wave. His eyes cloud over briefly. “Hey, Carrots?”

“Yes?” Judy asks eagerly.

“It wasn’t sincere before but, uh,” Nick nervously clears his throat once before straightening. “Seriously. Have fun with your family.”

Judy is moved by her friend’s words. She wants to give a proper apology, and shout a bunch of other things simmering beneath her chest— things like how much she’ll miss him, how they are still totally texting when she gets settled in, and how she’ll _probably_ think about coming back with a gift— but then the train gives another startling whistle and Judy moves back to keep from being crushed with the closing doors. The train moves forward and she leans against the glass window to wave. He returns a two-finger salute and stays on the platform until the train speeds up and curves through the first bend leading out of downtown.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Judy and Nick wouldn’t really care about their 8 year difference, but I think it would be thought of at least once, probably by an overthinking bunny. This is the end of that thought, 3 chapters later. I almost made her leave without an apology but then that would have been 12 more chapters before she finally gets back and makes up with him and I can't drag out this mountain out of a molehill situation any longer, so guess what? yeah u get the PROBLEM and the RESOLUTION all in one chapter.
> 
> *****BONUS SERIOUS DELETED scene as Judy slumps down into her train seat with her phone in her paws*****
> 
> Carrots: -- and u respect me as an officer and a partner and u have never treated me wrongly or looked down on me since we’ve been friends and im such a jerk and u are so wonderful ok nick? Ok nick u are the best and u will always be my best friend and im sorry again im really dumb
> 
> Slick Nick: wtf is going on


	6. Surprise.

Judy can remember hugs being a part of her daily life growing up in Bunnyburrow. Every morning, Bonnie gave each of her children a hug before shooing them off to the kitchen for breakfast. Stu gave all of his children a hug when he returned from his day on the farm. Each time someone graduated, or passed a test, or drew a picture, or put on a police-dream child play that gave both parents a mini-heart attack, there was a hug dished out before and after. Physical affection was the norm, happening so frequently that Judy never thought it should be any other way. It was good seeing her older brothers and sisters getting married, branching off into their own stands selling carrots, and hugging each other as if hugs were always meant to be part of their lives.

“Dad. It’s been eight minutes since my feet have touched the floor.”

The thing is, living in Zootopia for eight months since graduating the police academy hasn’t given her much time to use her hugging muscles. She looks over her dad’s shoulder, her arms pinned to her sides while her father holds onto her for dear life, and wonders if the giddy little bunnies jumping up and down behind Bonnie are waiting for their turn to crush her ribs.

“Stu, for goodness sake.” Bonnie finally steps forward and pats him on the back. “She’s going to turn purple if you keep this up.”

“Eight months, Judy. Eight months!” Stu finally pulls back and lets Judy onto the Bunnyburrow train platform, the one 211 miles from Zootopia. “Can you blame me if I’m a little excited?”

“Time flies in the city, dad,” Judy supplies, rubbing one of her arms and trying not to feel guilty. “Whoa, tingly.”

Bonnie opens her arms and Judy grins. She hugs her mother and rocks back and forth. The proper barrier holding them back now occupied, all of her tiny siblings rush forward and swarm the hugging mother and daughter combo. Stu, emotional and not nearly relieved of his hugging fever, scoops up two of his closest children and crushes them to his chest.

“Judy! Judy! Judy!” her siblings chant. From the shade of the train platform, some of her older siblings smile at the display and wave when they catch Judy’s eye.

“How was the ride?” Bonnie asks when they break from the hold. She doesn’t wait for an answer and looks at Judy’s stomach. “You’ve gotten thinner!”

“No, she hasn’t.” Stu says over the heads of his children. He shuffles forward and the bunnies part for him like a wave until he’s standing next to his wife and gesturing at the only police officer in the family. “That’s a six-pack, hun. Pure muscle and strength, just like her dad.”

Bonnie pats her husband’s rounded belly. “Yes, Stu. Pure muscle.”

“You guys are too nice,” Judy says while smoothing her paws over the soft heads of her siblings. She smiles down at them and their joy is infectious. “Gosh, you’ve all gotten so much taller. You’re nearly my height, now.”

They’re not, but they all explode into cheers and giggles at the praise, which makes Judy’s chest flutter with love for them all over again. They haven’t started asking her questions yet, instead launching into simultaneous tellings of what Judy has missed while she’s been gone. So many of them chatter about school and projects they’re working on, while others go on about hobbies they’ve been improving in, and what cool bugs they’ve caught in the fields.

“A worm _this_ big!” Henry bounces high and stretches his tiny paws a foot apart.

“No, this big!” Angie insists with her paws stretched a foot wider than her brother’s.

“Oh, cool!” Judy says and crouches into the crowd of gray and brown bunnies. “What did it taste like when you licked it? The longer ones are way grosser than the shorter ones.”

Everyone gasps, including Stu and the bunnies clutched in his arms. Bonnie shakes her head but smiles as all of her children give their input on eating bugs.

“Don’t give them any ideas, Judy,” Bonnie says. Something flickers in her eyes, something a little sad, but by the time Judy has straightened, it’s gone.

Her older siblings are at the border of the ecstatic bunnies and give their greetings. Judy carefully shuffles forward and hugs them.

“Missed you!” Judy says when she kisses one of her brothers on the cheek.

“Yuck. Did you lick a worm before that kiss?” He makes a face and they all laugh.

“How was the train ride? Are you tired?” Beatrice asks. She was one of the older rabbits Judy remembers raising her while Bonnie and Stu were working the fields.

“It’s only three hours from Zootopia. I’m fine,” Judy insists. She looks down at the round belly of her older sister and gasps. “Oh my gosh! Seriously?”

Beatrice nods and gives a fond tap to her stomach. “Super seriously. Triplets.”

“You’re so lucky your first batch is so small. I remember being pregnant with Joey, Oliver, Gunther, Rebecca, Charlie, Jasmine, Bianca, and Ford,” Bonnie reminisces from behind them.

“Don’t we all,” Stu says with a sideways glance. “You were a nightmare, Bon.”

“I was a nightmare because my husband was crying the whole time.”

“Tears of _joy_ ,” Stu interjects quickly. “The first litter is always emotional,” he explains to Beatrice.

“You hear that, Judy? The first litter is always emotional. Dad was so well-put together with the rest of us,” Beatrice says with a tilt to her lips at her younger sister. Some of the small siblings have pushed forward and gently tap their sister’s full stomach.

“Oh, definitely. Dad was really mean and strict after the first lot.” Judy and the older siblings nod, then burst into laughter as soon as Stu’s face starts to freeze in horror. “Just kidding, dad. We know you love us.”

“Sure do!” Stu says and gently drops his smallest babies back to the ground.

“Baby,” Tina says as her paw ghosts over the swell of her nieces growing. She pulls back with a delighted shriek and looks at her brothers standing beside her. “She _moved_! She moved, dad!”

“You probably woke them up with all this screaming,” Bonnie says while she surveys back and forth across the crowd of small children. She looks at the eldest siblings that were able to make it to greet Judy when she arrived. “Okay, everyone remember which car they were in? We’re about to leave.”

The older siblings jingle their car keys and the crowd of bunnies part. Judy stands at the center, amazed at the chaos that seems to divide them equally in front of the chaperones. She’s suddenly embarrassed that they all took time out of their day to meet her on her arrival.

Bonnie places a paw on Judy’s arm. “Ready?”

Judy nods and Stu comes up her other side, holding her suitcase in his paws. “You’re stuck with us for the drive home, Judy. Hope you have some exciting stories for the road.”

Bonnie waves to her children and leads Judy to the blue truck parked on the dirt patch that serves as the train station’s parking lot. “Nothing _too_ dangerous, right, sweetheart?”

“I got a paper cut two days ago. I was trying to break my filing record.” Judy brings up her paw’s invisible scratch and her dad hisses in sympathy. “It was worth it.”

“Gosh, paperwork sounds dangerous. You should consider moving back and joining the police force here in Bunnyburrow,” Stu says cheerfully as he takes out his keys from the pouch in his overalls.

“Stu, don’t pressure her,” Bonnie chastises as she gets into the truck.

“Bunnyburrow has like, one cop, dad. And he sleeps the whole shift because nothing ever happens here.” Judy doesn’t groan because she can handle her parents pestering her. While she wasn’t expecting them to ask her to quit her ZPD position, she should have guessed there would be some hints that they would like her back. Being gone for eight months without a visit home might have something to do with that.

“Are you saying Bunnyburrow isn’t dangerous? It’s dangerous! We had two raccoons snooping around, trying to get into the vegetable patch.” Stu starts up the engine for the truck and they putter out of the field and onto the road, Judy’s body vibrating with the bumps of the uneven terrain.

“They turned out to be two lost visitors passing through who happened to be _close_ to the vegetable patch,” Bonnie explains. “Your father ended up giving them a basket of vegetables anyway.”

“We had surplus and they were kind folks, just a little weird when you shine a flashlight in their eyes. They turn yellow.” Stu shudders while keeping both paws on the wheel.

“Dad, bunnies have _red_ eyes when you shine a light in them at night.” Judy sits back and ponders what else she might say. “So do foxes.”

“Red eyes are great. Who doesn’t love red eyes? The point is, Bunnyburrow could use a good cop and Sergeant Geraldo is getting up in his years.”

“I don’t think my partner would like Bunnyburrow as a permanent station.” Judy can just imagine the look on Nick’s face: pure bliss at having such an easy job. “He would hate it.”

She’s sure the joy of easy shifts five days a week would eventually break him. As much as he jokes to be the bad cop weighing her down, she thrills at the look of concentration on his face while they’re in the field doing detective work. Messy uniform aside— because God knows she hasn’t been able to get him to tighten his tie or keep his sleeves unrolled since his graduation ceremony— he’s a great cop who works hard and surprises her with all of his knowledge learned outside of the academy. Plus, he’s a city fox through and through. She can’t imagine he’d want to make an effort to fit into such a “Podunk” town when he’s been in bustling, huge, sparkly Zootopia his whole life.

“You could always ask,” Bonnie suggests easily, this being the first she’s interjected in this topic.

“Ask Nick to move with me to Bunnyburrow?” Judy asks, surprised the idea is coming from her mother.

“Why not? You two seem like a packaged deal with how you go on about him, and two cops are better than one any day,” Stu adds with the same unbelievable nonchalance his wife talks with.

“It’s just a silly thought, sweetheart. We’ve missed you so much. You can’t blame us if we’re a little eager to get you back,” says Bonnie with a little pinch to Judy’s cheek.

Judy nods silently, completely thrown off kilter and a little ashamed that she was expecting at least one unsure glance shared between her parents at the mention of Nick coming to Bunnyburrow with her, even in this fantasy scenario. Eight months really _is_ a long time to get used to a lot of things.

“I was… helping Nick study and train the five months of his academy training. He graduated two months ago in January, and we’ve been building up a good reputation together on our cases since then. Time kind of flew by, but I promise I’ll make a better effort to visit often.” Judy pauses and her chest feels tight. “And um, maybe next time, I can bring…”

She sees the speck of the farm at the end of the road. The line of cars following them honks and she hears the distant howls of her excited siblings as they spot their house. Stu giggles in his seat and honks the horn back at his children while Bonnie shakes her head and smiles.

Should she really be volunteering Nick’s appearance for her next time visit? It’s not something that’s ever been discussed between them, though she has thought about it in between sessions of exercising and working together, proud of such a good friend and partner. One tiny problem was holding her back from bumping her fist into his shoulder and asking “Okay, nerd, want to meet the bunnies who raised me?” and that was the totally unnecessary social condition that said a bunny didn’t bring someone to meet the parents unless there was some serious dating going on.

Judy’s face heats up and she ducks her head away from her mother.

Which is totally stupid! Two big parts of her life not interacting with each other because of some stupid, invisible rule was… stupid! And irritating and ridiculous and Judy wishes sometimes it was as simple as hugging when she was younger with no one wondering why hugs happened. It was just something that did.

Nick meeting her family should just be something that is normal. She loves Nick, and she loves her family and they should meet.

For sure.

Soon.

“Maybe next time you can bring what, hon?” Bonnie asks as she turns from the side mirror to her daughter.

Luckily, Judy’s face is more or less composed and she gives a polite nod. “Maybe next time I can bring some tacky souvenirs for gifts, mom.”

 

\--

 

Judy is pulled throughout the house and introduced to new little toys and paw prints painted on walls. The underground burrow is so large, with the familiar shapes of slides and ladders going from one hole to another, that Judy wonders if she might get lost.

“Does mom know you painted the wall pink, Ronny?” Judy asks after being pulled deeper into the home. The above ground farm was just as she remembered but she doubts her mother okay-ed a bunch of little drawings on the walls of the kid rooms.

The smaller rabbit shakes his head with pride. “Never! I’m sneaky!”

“Nu-uh! I’m sneaky!” Abby insists with a playful shove. “It was my idea, Judy.”

The rest of the children pipe up with arguments on whose idea it was in the first place, and which rabbit has the sneakiest tendencies.

“The number one rule of being sneaky is don’t take credit for being sneaky, guys,” Judy says with a click of her tongue. “You all are going to make awful criminals when you get older.”

“Boo, criminals!” Trey howls. He points to Judy. “Show us your badge again, Judy.”

“Okay,” Judy says slowly as she reaches into her pocket. She bends to hand it into awaiting paws but then snatches it back with a dramatic flair. “But if you lose this, you’re all going to jail.” When they gasp, she shrugs. “Sorry, it’s the rules. I cannot be swayed by familial affection when it comes to upholding the law.”

They pass her badge around and coo at the sleek material while Judy keeps a keen eye on where it is the whole time. She thinks it’s a good step for all of the Hopps kids when they don’t fight over who gets it next, and a good step for herself when she doesn’t anxiously dart over when Lisa and Tyler nearly drop her badge.

Bonnie knocks her fingers on the entrance and pokes her head in. Judy turns and smiles but her mother’s eyes fall on the badge being passed around her tiny children. She clears her throat and gives a shaky smile to Judy.

“Dinner’s in the oven. Judy, could you come help me fold the laundry?”

Bonnie is out of the door before Judy can give an answer. Judy shrugs at her siblings and then points right at Jessica, who happens to be the last bunny to take the badge with great care. “Seriously, you guys. Major jail time if you lose it.”

They all return anxious, eager nods and Judy forces her way out of the children wing, hoping she won’t have a furious Bogo looming over his desk while he berates her for an hour on losing her badge when she gets back to the ZPD. Bonnie is already hurrying back to the main area, dusting her hands on the apron tied around her waist.

“Where’s dad?” Judy asks when she catches up to her mother.

“He’s changing the tires from Beatrice’s car before she has to drive back. Her husband is taking her to a checkup later and the doctor is so far from where they live, remember? You know your father worries over the distance.”

Judy wonders if it’s a slight hint at her own situation in Zootopia. “Yup. Long distance. But she has someone to help her with the babies, so it’s all good.”

They get to the living room and Judy balks at the loads of unfolded shirts, dresses, overalls, pants, and everything in between flung over dozens of the couches they have set up. The television plays a mediocre soap opera gently in the background as noise to fill the silence.

“This show is nothing but reruns,” Judy idly says while picking a spot in front of the television. She lifts the first shirt from the gigantic pile and folds it in the air. Her skills are as perfect as ever, even if her own clothes are three times as big.

“It’s still ranked as the best show in Bunnyburrow despite not having a new episode in eight years,” Bonnie comments, resuming her folding near the comfortable reclining chair.

Judy frowns. “Can I put it on Fuzzy Justice?”

Bonnie pauses in her folding and then nods. “Sure.”

Judy switches the show to channel thirteen. Officers Humps and Spitz are in the middle of jumping from one roof to another, complete with dramatic landings and an overabundance of zoom-ins and slow-motion. An unexplained fiery explosion lights up their background, and the two pose with their pistols drawn at the fire. Two dozen ninjas on motorcycles fly from the flames and follow the camel and llama’s path, who are promptly shot at with limitless bullets from the two officers balancing on the roof’s edge.

“This is a lot more violent than I remember,” Judy says slowly as fake blood oozes in impossible gallons from flying ninjas. “The plot is lacking, too.”

“Half of your siblings want to be police officers now.”

Judy turns back to her mother, who keeps her eyes on her folding. Judy resumes her task as well.

“They ask us every day if you’re on the news, and make us change the channel to check just in case.” Bonnie sets aside her finished folding and moves onto the next pile on the coffee table.

“Mom…” Judy hesitates. What type of assurance is there for a mother who had a hard enough time letting one child join the police force over two-hundred miles away? The older siblings that take on the Hopps name may never see the tiny bunnies that only reach Judy’s waist, but they’re still in Bunnyburrow making their own lives. Safer lives, Judy will bet.

(Boring, too.)

“I don’t know what to say,” Judy admits.

She envisions all of her tiny sisters and brothers working hard to make it big as an officer in Zootopia. Did she really want them doing that? Her stomach sinks when she realizes the grueling work she and Nick had to suffer through just to pass some tests. The actual field work was sometimes less or more dangerous, but always unpredictable. Bogo had enough cops doing the more routine work, saving special cops with extensive reputations— like Officers Francine, Adam, Higgins, _Nick Wilde_ , and so many others— for the more dangerous tasks.

She would like more bunnies joining the force. She’s said so on plenty of occasions and Bogo has given his gruff support for anyone who will work as hard as Judy.

Judy imagines being thirty-five and working with tiny Tina or small Sebastian. Her stomach coils into weird knots.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Judy,” Bonnie says. Her mother’s kind voice pulls Judy from her odd wave of anxiety. “You’ve done great work, and your father and I— the whole Hopps clan? We’re proud of you. It’s just such a scary thought to come to terms with.”

She thinks of the time spent in the police car, Nick drooping with sleep while Judy peers out of binoculars at a suspect’s house. She thinks about celebrating McHorn’s birthday last month and seeing the grumpy rhinoceros break into weak smiles and crocodile-sized tears. She thinks to the concert they had all gone to right before Nick started his academy training.

_“This is the last fun thing you’re going to do for five months.” She bounces over and bumps her hip to Nick’s, who is driving her crazy with his too-cool-for-school look of nonchalance. “So I really suggest you dance, Nick.”_

“I was nine when I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I have a good job, with a great partner. It’s… risky sometimes, mom. It’s long hours, and tiring work, but I’m really happy.” Judy picks up her folded pile and takes it over to her mother. Bonnie looks up and Judy smiles, her anxiety rolling away with the good memories attached to police work. “If that’s what they would honestly want to work for, I know they can succeed.”

Bonnie lets go of her latest pair of pants and pulls her daughter in for a hug. “I know, Judy.”

“Maybe you can trick half of them into working here,” Judy teases into the side of her mother’s head.

Bonnie and Judy laugh. The oven dings in the kitchen and Bonnie pulls away, wiping her eyes but smiling. She pats Judy’s shoulders.

“Dinner’s nearly ready. Could you call your brothers and sisters down and make them finish the rest of this?” Bonnie asks while gesturing to the mountains of clothes still needing folding.

“No problem, mom. I love you,” Judy says and smacks a kiss onto her mother’s cheek before the matron of the Hopps family hurries to the kitchen.

 

\--

 

 _Um how am I supposed 2 know ur alive if u don’t check in with me sweetums??? give me a holla when u can carrots cus last minute train tickets 2 bunnyburrow are $$expensive$$_ , is the only text Nick has sent her, two hours ago while she and her mother talked. Her mother is insisting it’s only five more minutes before all of the goodies are set up for dinner, which means she maybe has an hour left to wait before the grumbling in her stomach is appeased. The nap ebbed away some of her hunger, but now it’s back.

Nick opens up the perfect opportunity to ask about how serious he is on coming to Bunnyburrow. Judy unlocks her phone.

‘ _Sweetums’ is new. You’re gonna run out of nicknames eventually, Wilde,_ she texts back. She can’t ask him right away about Bunnyburrow or else she’d freak him out, right?

The little gray speech bubble works its way onto the screen and Judy is glad that Nick isn’t weird about texting back too quickly.

_u know how I said the world is my oyster? This oyster sucks i.e. this bar finn dragged me to is total hipster central. Tourists EVERYWHERE._

Judy smiles at her phone and sits up in her childhood bed. The bedroom is eerily quiet as all of the bunnies were called downstairs to set up the table because Judy is the _guest_ and it rocks being pampered.

 _Don’t be so harsh on tourists. YOU would be a tourist in Bunnyburrow, remember?_ Judy wants to high-five herself with how smooth her texting is.

There’s a pause and then Judy wants to melt into her bed. She was too pushy! She was way too strong and freaked him out! That’s it!

After two agonizing minutes, Nick responds.

_Finn is bugging me to pull some wingman duty here of all places ughhhh are u SERIOUS, my guy.  sorry bunny!! Text u l8r_

Wingman? Judy frowns. Is that a hustle thing they’re pulling?

Oh. Wait, no.

Police officers chatter way too often in the time before Bogo shows up with a stack of reports and Judy picks up more than she should hear. She specifically remembers ‘wingman’ in a tale about dating. Delgato and Grizzoli are in some weird contest and it made her throw them a disgusted face, which promptly shut the tiger and lion up.

“Judy!” her father calls from the dining room. “Dinner’s ready! Hurry up and get down here! There’s a surprise!”

“No kidding,” Judy says while staring at her phone. She jots Nick a quick text, complete with a thumbs-up emoji.

_Good luck!!!!_

 

\--

 

The music is loud, the purple and blue lights are flashing everywhere. When Finn had said this bar would have the “best beer and bug burgers, believe me,” Nick was hoping it would come at a less bright and noisy area. But no, this was downtown in precinct one of Zootopia’s many districts and Nick was ready to call it a night when Finnick spotted a pretty Chihuahua he wanted to approach.

He looks down at the last reply he’s probably going to get out of Judy tonight, and wonders if he should give her another update after realizing something.

Finnick leans closer to him at the bar. “If we don’t make a move, they’re going to get away. What are you so worried about?” Finnick gives a knowing glance to the phone in Nick’s paw.

Nick tries not to grind his teeth. “Your little friend at that table you’re so eager to get to has a very interesting companion, Finn.”

Finnick looks over. He had been so struck by the cute curves in the Chihuahua’s ears, he hadn’t really glanced at the taller friend she sat with.

“The fox?” Finnick asks with an unimpressed lift of his brow. “What about her?”

Nick puts his phone away and sighs, already feeling a headache coming on. “I gave her a ticket for speeding yesterday, right before she made a vulgar comment about Judy.” It was technically a vague joke about rabbits in general, but still. The damage was done.

Finnick makes a low growl. “Did she break out of jail? I’m thinking so, because I’m assuming you threw her in jail after doing that.”

“Judy acted like she didn’t even care, actually. She’s a pretty forgiving bunny with this kind of stuff, especially after what happened with our friendship’s beginning.” He still remembers the calm professionalism Judy spoke with, the relaxed pose she took on after Nick fumbled over his words to apologize. She seemed genuinely unworried about it.

“Judy has a big heart,” Finnick says, with a sly glance back to the table. “Almost as big as the ears on that Chihuahua.”

“What is it with you and ears?” Nick asks with his own tint of confusion.

“Don’t question me.” Finnick hops from the bar stool and gives Nick a no-nonsense glare. “I gave you and your totally-not-your girlfriend a ride this morning. If Judy forgave her, then the least you can do is help me out here.”

Nick gives a weary look at the table. That is definitely the fox in the bright and tacky pink sports car sitting next to who Finnick is claiming as the love of his life.

“Fine,” Nick grinds out. It’s been so long since he’s been irritated enough to show it but Finnick is his friend. “But only because you gave Judy a ride.”

With great pain, Nick orders two extra drinks from the bar and hands one to Finnick. The smaller fox is all too happy to let bygones be bygones if Judy is doing so. Nick hopes he can keep his smile convincing enough for Finnick and his soulmate to exchange numbers, and _then_ Nick will slip out and the urge to update Judy for some reason will ease and he can sleep in peace.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise.
> 
> I'd like to say thanks to everyone who has left kudos, comments, and bookmarks. You guys rock. Hope this extra long chapter made up for the week of waiting.
> 
> I love big families, and I love drama. Those were the 2 main things today, folks.


	7. Saturday Fun: The Foxes

Her nose locks onto the beacon of delicious aroma wafting into the children wing of the house as she snaps her charger to her phone. The familiar smell entices her forward, her nose the first thing to stick out of the floor while she takes the ladder to the higher dining room’s direction. The ears on her head swivel to the noise of energetic bunnies surely gathered around the table, waiting impatiently for Judy’s arrival.

She’s surprised her mother and father have managed to wrangle them all up in time. When she was ten, she remembers her own fidgety feet thumping around her room as she and her age-mates whined to their mother about the _boring_ food steaming on the table in preparation for a visit from an enigmatic, and rarely seen, older sibling. Carrot stew in particular was requested with enthusiasm over the phones from homesick Hopps adults, and Judy remembers making a disappointed face and sticking out her tongue. Carrot stew? The meal they had four, maybe five times a week, was the special dish made for their older brother or sister’s visit?

Judy’s stomach rumbles as she gets a whiff of it from down the hallway. She can smell the carrot stew and feel her mouth salivating as her memories come flooding her vision: hearty, warm broth dotted with yummy pockets of oils, thick slices of perfectly-cooked carrots, fresh spinach softened under the pile of cabbage dropped in the center of each bowl as a loving garnish. She finally understands why her older siblings would go bonkers over carrot stew after not having it for so long.

While her feet, nose, stomach, and nearly every other sense begs her to charge faster into the dining room, her mind hesitates. She takes a look over her shoulder back at the children’s wing and wonders if it’s really going to ease her mind leaving her phone by her bed instead of having it tucked into her pocket.

Judy can hear giggles from down the hall much more closely. She inhales and swivels to face one of the round mirrors aligning the wall, every other inch of free space occupied by framed pictures of bunnies and parents sharing good times.

“You are going to march into that dining room, have a lovely meal with your family, and not think about…  Zootopia, at all. Got it, Judy?” Her determined face looks more like a cross between nausea and smelling something disgusting. She shakes her head and holds onto her cheeks, patting them with some force. Her reflection looks confused but not entirely miserable, which is an improvement for dinner with her family.

Judy waves at herself in the mirror and then focuses all of her attention on her hunger, using it to propel her forward instead of back to her old room. She is Judy-flipping-Hopps and she can do this.

She realizes too late that the giggles from her brothers and sisters are more like shrieks after she’s standing at the entrance of the dining area. None of her siblings are seated in the chairs, all of the seats shoved back in different stages as evidence of sloppy and eager exits to get to the other end of the large room. Her parents are standing at the door leading to the patio, chatting away just as excitedly as their children.

The only eyes on her are from the equally uncomfortable guest who spots her first before any of her family does.

“Hey, Judy,” Gideon Grey says in a meek voice, lifting a paw and waving to her.

Stu and Bonnie finally turn and eagerly beckon Judy forward. Judy takes steps towards them, her mind fuzzy with questions on why her parents’ business partner is on their patio while dinner is ignored on the set table.

“Hi, Gideon?” Judy asks, eyes glancing to her parents.

"It completely slipped our minds to let you two know about each other for dinner tonight," Bonnie says while lifting her pie away from grabby paws. "Surprise!"

They remain utterly oblivious to any tension between the fox and the officer bunny. She doesn’t hate Gideon, really. They’re just not even friends and haven't spoken in forever, and she’s wondering why on earth her parents thought the coolest arrival gift would be to invite him to dinner.

Three tiny siblings latch onto each side of Gideon, and two more pull with all of their might on his large paws, trying in vain to pull him into their home. Bonnie and Stu each hold a pie and frown down at their children mercilessly pulling on the large fox.

“You keep this up and Gideon won’t want to have dinner with us on Saturdays anymore,” Stu warns them with a waggle of his finger.

Saturdays— this isn’t a gift for Judy, which makes sense. She summons the sleuth skills she’s honed in the field and realizes that Gideon is welcomed every week into the Hopps home for dinner. Okay, that makes a tiny bit more sense than expecting Judy and Gideon to magically bond over dinner.

“Sorry, Gideon,” Lila squeaks as she releases her hold on his left wrist.

“Aw, that’s okay, Mr. H,” Gideon says with a lop-sided grin down at his group of beloved fans. Some of the taller bunnies, like Maggie and Oscar, shoo their smaller siblings away to give Gideon some space. They all stare up at Gideon with stars in their eyes, and Judy wonders if maybe _she_ should leave to give them some time.

Gideon glances back at Judy and she can see the excuse forming on his tongue, his quiet confidence in the midst of his adoring group melting as he meets her confused stare.

“I should probably get going,” Gideon suggests with a forlorn look into the open field behind him.

He looks entirely awkward standing there, framed on all sides by buzzing bunnies. Their ears begin to droop with his statement. Bernadette looks ready to burst into tears while the others blurt out panicked protests.

“What? No!”

“ _Gideooooonnnn!”_

“I had a question about a worm, Gideon!”

“Please don’t leave!”

Despite the earlier warning, they all begin tugging on the looming fox’s arms and Gideon blinks down with uncertainty on what to do. He looks up at Judy and then she realizes what's making this unannounced reunion the most awkward is her lack of opinion.

Judy clears her throat. “Dinner smells great. You should stay so we can catch up.”

The first floor of the home rumbles slightly as all of her siblings bounce with glee. Bonnie and Stu make way past their kids, holding the pies above their heads so they don’t drop into the crowd. Gideon and Judy share a brief glance, and they both give pleasant smiles to each other. He looks bashful despite being the biggest in their home and being hounded from all sides to hurry up and get to the table.

The pies are set and everyone makes their way back into a chair. Judy stands next to Gideon as the chaos resumes while some brothers fight over which seat is theirs.

“It’s nice to see you, Gideon,” Judy says while staring at one of her smaller brothers helping a sister into a chair. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say something.”

“I really don’t have to stay, Judy. Honest, I don’t mean to intrude on your family time. I- I- I was just on my way back from a late shift in the market an’ I thought Stu an’ Bonnie wouldn’t mind some extra pies tonight an’ I—”

“Gideon, it’s fine,” Judy insists gently. Some bunnies are already howling Gideon’s name and playing rock-paper-scissors with each other, competing for where Gideon is going to sit. “Look at me, I'm old news. They really, really adore you. I’m surprised they’re not asking for autographs.”

“They like you, too!” Gideon says right away. He fumbles in his front pocket. “Oh, dang, I nearly took this with me. I’m really sorry, Judy. Here—” Gideon offers Judy her _badge_ and she gapes at it for a moment before taking it. Gideon fumbles over his words in his explanation. “They were goin’ on and on about your service and how cool you are.”

“They gave you my badge?” Judy asks with an amused tick at her lips. Her eyes light up. “Hey, I never thanked you for the hint on the Night Howler case.”

Gideon frowns. “You mean that time you went off babblin’ incoherent nonsense as you stole your dad’s truck?”

“Wow. Is that really the last impression you got from me?” Judy laughs and runs a palm down her face. “Well, please take my brothers and sisters’ word on it. I am really cool now, Gideon.”

Gideon smiles and what Judy can sense about her old rival is that she’s going to enjoy his light and simple attitude. So maybe they’re not friends, but Judy feels like she’d rather change that and dinner tonight would be a good second step after his apology last year.

Stu tries to settle the energetic bunnies down but is ultimately too soft-hearted to really shout over their voices competing in the air. Bonnie stands next to her husband at the end of the table and gives a serious look over the long table, which has most of them piping down so the parents can be heard. The arguments on where the two guests are going to sit are promptly shut down as Bonnie points to the two chairs at the middle of the table, one on the left and one on the right. Gideon takes his regular seat and Judy sits across from him, one of the pies he brought over sitting in front of them.

After that, Stu leads them in grace and Judy tries not to laugh at the little nudges her siblings give to each other with their eyes closed and paws pressed together. Sneaky kids, she thinks with good humor as she hears one sister try to scoop some potatoes onto her fork before the ‘amen’ is echoed around dinner. Judy gladly helps herself to a steaming bowl of carrot stew and sticks her tongue out at the brothers seated beside her who wrinkle their noses.

“You should have asked mom to make iced lemon tarts, Judy,” one whispers to her. “She would have listened to you.”

Judy blows the hot steam from her spoon and carefully raises it to her lips. “It’s a good thing I didn’t, otherwise Gideon’s pies would go to waste, right?”

George seems to understand and nods. “You’re so smart, Judy.”

The rustic dough layered on top of the bursting fruit— cherry, she thinks, or maybe strawberry?— is charming with its crisscrossed pattern. The top of the pie is shiny, like it’s been glazed with some apricot jam or glossy sugar. She raises her head to ask Gideon some icebreaker over it, but is surprised to see him sipping carrot stew.

“You have good taste,” Judy comments to the fox. The first sip of carrot stew is like a glob of heaven warming her throat.

Gideon looks down at his bowl and then gently tips it so she can see the meatballs floating among the carrots. “Bonnie learned how to make these out of grasshoppers and crickets.”

“Gideon, Judy says she eats worms,” Edgar says with the childlike energy of saying something out of nowhere just to say it. He happily scoops collard greens into his mouth and hums a tune.

“Really?” Gideon asks with the patience of someone who is used to these sorts of oddball ramblings. “How ‘bout that?”

“I want to eat a worm so I can be strong like Judy,” Patrice says from Gideon’s side. She looks extra small sitting beside the fox. Her little paw stabs at a noodle and she slurps it dramatically. “Worms, grant me your strength!”

“That is enough bug talk,” Stu says from the end of the table, pushing away his own plate of noodles and looking a shade of sick green in the face. Bonnie places a bowl of carrot stew in front of him instead.

“I never said I ate worms,” Judy says with a huff. In front of Gideon she’s suddenly embarrassed he might think she was making fun of predator eating habits.

The rest of the dinner is spent with all of the bunnies looking for worm-shaped pieces of food to eat and shooting a look at Judy with wiggling eyebrows.

“Worm,” Hector whispers as he eats a matchstick-sliced carrot.

“ _Judy,_ ” Abby stage-whispers from Gideon’s other side. She holds up her fork and points at the string bean on the end of it. “Worm.” She chomps on it with fervor.

Gideon finishes his bowl of carrot stew and gets another serving. He pushes it in front of Abby. “Do you think I could get some worms in here?”

“Don’t you already eat _real_ worms?” Abby asks bluntly while scooping some of the string beans from the serving bowl into Gideon’s meal.

“ _Abby_!” Judy exclaims, mortified.

“Not really. Worms taste like what they eat, an' what they eat is dirt,” Gideon says while taking his bowl back when Abby is finished.

“So Judy eats dirt,” Abby says. A nine-year-old child should not be this forward.

“Maybe Zootopia makes them taste really good with spices and sugars,” Gideon suggests. He looks back to Judy. “What’s the food in Zootopia like?”

Judy doesn’t waste time wondering if Gideon masterfully directed the topic to something not worm-related on purpose or by accident. Either way, she is grateful. “I’m really impressed with the way so many pred and prey dishes can be served right next door to each other. There’s food imported from all over, and the markets usually have good deals.” Judy raises her bowl and nods to her mother at the end of the table. “But this is leagues better. Nothing is tastier than a home-cooked meal with fresh and organic ingredients.”

“Boy, ain’t that the truth,” Gideon agrees with a wide smile.

“How’s your business going?” Judy asks right away. The rest of the surrounding bunnies seemed to zone out while she regaled the boring carrot stew and went back to picking at their plates and tossing peas when their parents weren't looking.

Gideon opens his mouth and then Stu shouts from his spot, “It’s going great! I can’t believe Gideon is still doing business with us small-time folks with how much success he’s garnering.”

Gideon flushes under the new attention. “I…”

Bonnie nods as fervently as a proud parent. “Did you know his business has moved out of the tri-burrows area? I’m surprised he hasn’t opened up some markets and bakeries in Zootopia.”

Judy shoots her attention back to the embarrassed dinner guest. “Is that something you’d like to do? Get business started in Zootopia?”

Gideon ducks his head, bashful. “It’s somethin’ I brought up once, nothing too serious.”

“I bet you could do it,” Judy says. Her body tingles with the energy of starting something big. “Zootopia is a place where anyone can be anything as long as you work hard.”

“Aw, thanks, Judy,” Gideon says. “But I wouldn’t know the first thing about lookin’ in Zootopia.”

Judy gestures to herself. “Hello? I could totally be your tour guide.”

Gideon looks unsure, surprised, and just a little curious. “Really?”

“Of course. It would be nice to have a place to eat at where the food is sourced straight from the Hopps farm.”

Something like a sparkle of hope flutters on Gideon’s face. His blue eyes shine with something that Judy instantly recognizes as determination, and she feels like she’s nine and working for her best career move all over again.

“I’ll think about it,” Gideon says carefully. Judy’s face lights up and they smile at each other.

It’s only when she’s writing her number down on a piece of paper and handing it to Gideon, and waving with all of the other Hopps’ family members that Judy realizes she hasn’t thought about her phone at all.

 

 

\--

 

 

Nick Wilde doesn’t forget names or the faces attached to those names.

Even if sometimes he wishes he could forget, so every time he sees a beaver or a zebra he doesn’t have to shudder in anxiety or overwhelming anger, he can’t. There’s a herd of zebras that have a jogging club in the same park Judy and he use each Saturday morning and he’s proud to say he hides his discomfort well enough. Every Saturday feels a little easier but he has a long way to go.

This fox is Rena. He doesn’t know her equally-obvious tourist friend but his eyes stay focused on the fox the entire time he walks over, the saunter of casual confidence oozing from him in waves.

“’Scuse me, darlin’, but I seem to have forgotten your name.”

Nick sets his drink down in front of Rena and Finnick gladly stays hidden from view beneath the table, folding his arms and expecting Nick to pull off his usual magic.

Rena looks up at Nick and he sees the second her face dawns in realization. “Officer Nicholas Wilde. Look, Juanita. This is the officer that pulled me over yesterday. The fox.”

Juanita looks up from her bracelet to give Nick a dismissive once-over. From that alone, Nick is already compiling a file on her. Juanita, overdressed for a simple bar with a string of old-fashioned (vintage, she will probably insist with a hiss) white pearls around her neck, black eyeliner emphasizing the droopy and hard to impress eyes on her face. Her mouth is permanently stretched into an unamused scowl, with only her thin eyebrows moving to give the full range of emotion. Nick hypothesizes it goes from the default “mild disgust” all the way to top of the charts “livid fury”.

“ _Rena_ ,” Rena supplies with a sultry smile. Not subtle, and Nick’s a little disappointed she’s not craftier than this.

“Rita, right,” Nick says with a smack to his forehead. “How could I forget such a lovely name?”

Rena’s face pinches in distaste before she says louder over the music, “ _Re-na._ Rena.”

Nick pulls back his lips in a bad imitation of seeming apologetic. “Oh. I guess that’s okay, too.”

“Did you come over here to insult me, or to give me a drink? It’s not usually the two together, especially from a fellow predator.” Rena leans forward and clasps her claws together, gives a polite smile to Nick. “Although, I have gotten plenty of insults and then a drink thrown into my face. If you want to hurt my feelings, you’re going to have to do a little better than that, Nicholas Wilde.”

Finnick is shooting Nick a murderous glare, Juanita is already looking at her pink claws in boredom, and Rena is looking like she’s ready for a fight, as if she’s accustomed to this sort of confrontation.

“This bar is boring,” Juanita drawls to her nails. “Rena, you said Zootopia would be an endless week of parties and enchanting people.”

“I was ecstatic to hear a fox being an officer in Zootopia. It’s a good profession and inspiring to foxes,” Rena says with her eyes on Nick the entire time. “How silly it was of me to be so worried over the large prey population being the bullies here.”

Finnick slaps his paw into his face and decides Nick is an idiot. He pops his head over the table and slides into one of the free seats at the circular table.

“Hello, ladies,” Finnick says. He’s no master with words, which is why he usually leaves the intro to Nick, but any moron can tell Nick’s off his game and too busy trying to make enemies instead of being civil. “Please excuse my foolish friend here. He has this incredible talent where he tries to stuff both feet into his mouth.” Finnick leans forward and extends his paw to Juanita. “Name’s Finnick.”

Juanita and Rena both pull back, obvious surprise frizzing their fur from Nick’s bold counterpart. He seems nice enough, so Juanita gives a dainty shake with her own paw, as if she really doesn’t want to touch him while she mumbles her name. Finnick then shifts his paw to Rena, who looks absolutely stunned.

Finnick raises an eyebrow. “Never seen a fennec fox before?”

Okay, so both Finnick and Nick suck with words right now.

Rena darts her paw forward and shakes his, face blooming redder than her fur. “O-Oh, no. No, I haven’t. Sorry.”

Finnick chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. I heard your friend with the tantalizing accent here say this bar is a sorry excuse for socialization. I agree.”

Juanita and Rena share a look. The Chihuahua suddenly seems interested. “Locals must know the way around these parts much better. Do you know another bar?”

“Do we know another bar?” Finnick asks with incredulity. He slugs Nick in his arm and repeats, “Nick, do we know another bar?”

Nick stares back at his friend. “I… are you asking me, or is this rhetorical?”

Finnick bends over and laughs, smacking his paw onto the table and making the drink in front of Rena shake. “This guy’s a kidder. We know a bar, and it’s preds only.” Finnick hesitates and then leans forward. “It’s in a shady part of town, but the burgers and drinks are better than anything else.”

“A fox who lives on the edge of danger,” Juanita comments, her interest cooling. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Be nice,” Rena snaps. Juanita’s eyes flutter open at the sudden sharp tone Rena takes with her.

Nick makes more notes to the files on Rena and Juanita. It looks like Rena is craftier than what she lets on, and while the two may be friends, Juanita is the obvious leader with their outings, throwing around that suffocating air of indifference while Rena tries to copy her coolness.

“We can spare a little bit of time,” Juanita says to Finnick. “But if the place is a bust, we’re leaving.”

“Oh no,” Nick mumbles.

Finnick hits him again.

Juanita shifts her arms into her coat and Rena finishes the drink Nick got her. “Why let it go to waste?” she says with a shrug when Juanita gives her a questioning look.

While Juanita works on the tiny zippers and buttons on her coat, Rena stands. Nick blinks, surprised to see that she is nearly half a foot taller than him. She smiles down at him and pats his cheek.

“I know you don’t like me,” Rena says simply. “But Juanita is my friend and I’m trying to have a good time, so do you think you could plaster on a smile and pretend you’d rather not be roadkill?”

Nick shifts out of her touch and smiles. “I love pretending.”

“Must be a fox thing,” she says. Cryptic. He loves it.

Finnick is not ashamed of his van but they don’t take it. They leave it parked in the same lot with the guard and his bucket of dollars as the only protection and wait at the bus stop, making small talk. Finnick's van might be faster but even Finnick has boundaries— two pretty new girls aren’t enough to melt his heart and invite them into his sweet ride. The bus shows up, and Juanita is the first to hop onto the stairs, making a comment on the quaint condition of public transportation. Finnick makes Nick pay for the bus ride and Nick wonders if maybe he should get a bike so he doesn’t have to rely on Finnick for anything ever again.

“You don’t know how to drive?” Rena asks while she holds onto the pole for balance. Juanita holds onto the hem of her friend’s blue dress so she doesn’t have to touch anything unsanitary.

Nick grimaces. “Don’t need to.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Finnick snorts. “If you knew how to drive, you could have given Judy a ride.”

“Judy?” Rena asks. “Judy…” she mumbles to herself. She snaps her fingers and then points right at Nick. “The rumors are true! A bunny and fox working together.”

“Yeah, you saw us actually working together. She wrote you the ticket,” Nick says with a chuckle. “Remember? It was right before you made a comment about a lucky rabbit’s foot.”

Rena blanches and Nick is having the hardest time figuring out if her emotions are genuine or just incredibly well-acted. Juanita rolls her eyes and whips out her phone.

“We thought it was a PR stunt for this city,” Juanita says, scrolling through her phone. “It was all over our social media sites. ‘Judy Hopps and Nicholas Wilde: the uncanny duo stop mastermind Dawn Bellwether. Here’s proving our differences can be our strengths’ blah blah blah. It was everywhere for such a long time,” Juanita groans.

“Not a PR stunt. Judy’s definitely my partner and I’m definitely a police officer.” Nick squints down at the Chihuahua. “I didn’t really think that news would make it out far from Zootopia. Where are you two from?”

“ _Reino de los Depredadores,_ ” Juanita answers with perfect Spanish. Finnick practically salivates at the language.

“That’s a mouthful. I’m suddenly grateful for our city’s corny name and slogan,” Nick comments.

“Where anyone can be anything, right?” Rena asks with a snicker. “Our slogan is, ‘ _El lugar donde sólo los más fuertes sobreviven’_.” Her Spanish is good but not as well-practiced as Juanita’s. “It means ‘the place where only the strong survive.’ I like ours a little better.”

“Nick hates our slogan,” Finnick says with a sigh. “He says it’s unrealistic.”

“That was before I became a cop,” Nick defends, the trickle of uneasy peer pressure simmering behind his neck. What is he? Twelve?

“That’s smart. You should be skeptical of everything until you experience it personally.” Rena nods.

“It’s not skepticism,” Nick argues weakly. What the hell would Judy say if she were here?

“Then what? You believed in that stuff before you were a cop?” Rena asks. Her eyes aren’t hard, but the blue seems sincere, like she’s hyper focused on a prize.

“No,” Nick answers honestly. He remembers his mother tugging him along the sidewalk as insults were hurled her way, the slogan in glimmering paint over his head as a mocking reminder that some things didn’t apply to him. _Anything but a fox_ , he had thought while ducking behind his mother, her expression fearless and patient. “I thought it was flowery nonsense they spouted on billboards and posters.”

“What made you change your mind if it wasn’t your profession?” Rena asks.

He remembers Judy plopping her old books in front of him.

_She wipes for forehead as he picks up the first one, reading its title and then looking back up at his pleased friend._

_“I thought we were joking.”_

_Judy looks hurt for a moment then puffs up her chest. “I wasn’t. I’m going to help you study for the academy before it starts. Once you’re gone, you’ll only be able to ask me questions with your phone.” She reaches into her shirt and pulls out a whistle attached to a string. “Let’s get started.”_

_Nick laughs, then stops at the totally serious look on Judy’s face. He tilts his head and then observes the pile of books again._

_“You really think I can do this?”_

“Judy. Judy changed my mind,” Nick answers. It’s the most sure thing he’s said tonight.

“She must be something special then.” Rena smiles. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that joke yesterday. It was in poor taste.”

“She forgave you,” Nick says slowly. He looks at Rena and the little Chihuahua at her side. They’re an odd pair, just like him and Finnick, or him and Judy. “I guess it’s not too much for me to do the same.”

The bus stops and Finnick grins at the exchange between the two taller foxes. “Now that no one wants to kill each other here, let’s get this night started.”

 

 

\--

 

 

“I have a hangover.”

He hears Judy laugh on the other end of the phone and pulls the phone from his ear. “It’s noon on a Sunday. Are you still in bed?”

Yes. “No.”

“You’re a really bad liar when you’re drunk. Almost as bad as me when I’m sober,” she teases.

“ _Hangover_. Not drunk,” he muffles into his pillow. “All my tolerance is out the window, what the hell?”

“Well, I was just calling to see how you were doing,” she says into the receiver, and she is totally right. Even sober, she speaks with the forced casualness that he can tell is hiding the real reason she’s calling. “I can call you back later? Or just text. I am coming home tonight.”

“Wait. What time again?” Nick asks groggily as he rolls over and swipes awkwardly at his alarm clock. “I need to be there so you don’t get lost.”

“Nick,” Judy huffs into the phone. “I’m not a tourist anymore.”

Nick shrugs in his bed, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Just as well. I don’t think Finnick is in any shape for a drive today either. Hey, what if I got a bike?”

“… A bike? Uh, okay. Go for it.”

“No, like,” Nick waves his paw around as if his motions will convey his idea properly to her over the phone. “If I got a bike with a little basket attached in the front.”

“A bike is a good way to exercise. The basket could hold your water.”

“I could give you a ride with a bike. You could sit in the basket and try to give me directions and I would shake my head and ignore them because I know the best shortcuts.”

Judy giggles. “No way, weirdo. You need more sleep. If you have enough energy, you should go to my apartment later and raid the fridge.”

“Judy,” Nick says, staring at his dark ceiling. His head pounds so hard he feels like there's irritating dubstep in his room. Last night's outing was fun, funner than he thought it would be. Still... “I miss you.”

He’s 99% sure she’s smiling in the beat of silence before she responds. “Thank you, drunk Nick. I miss you too. See you later, okay?”

“Bye-bye, bunny.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to write at least 1 chapter of nick and judy having fun out of the other's presence but these dumb kids wont stop thinking about each other >:(
> 
> up next: reunion time


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